Irony

Somewhere, sometime, a man bought a load of bullets.

Somewhere, sometime, he also bought a machine gun and a knife.

While silently loading his bullets into the gun, he knew that he would go into a bar tonight, maybe order a martini. To do his task, he needed some amount of alcohol in his body. Any alcohol won't do, he needed a specific martini made by a specific person.

A lot of people carried on with their lives without having or wanting this information.

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"Mr, Jones," Dave told Jim, "wants to see you in his office."

"Oh fuck," was the only reply Jim could muster. It was well known in the office that the company was downsizing and Jim may well be the latest victim.

"Don't worry, it'll be all right," said Dave weakly. He knew as well as Jim that it won't be all right. In the current situation, nobody was hiring and everyone was handing out the pink slips.

"What happened?" asked Dave as soon as Jim walked out of Jones' cabin.

"The current situation does not allow the company to work with all of us," Jim mumbled absentmindedly, "and one of us needs to be sacrificed."

"Think of it as a break, you haven't taken a vacation in so long. Take Becky with you."

"I don't think that can happen," Jim said clearing out his desk, "I won't blame her if she breaks off the engagement."

"Do you have no faith in her?" Dave asked, clearly baffled.

"I need to get out of here," Jim said and rushed out, leaving his boxes on the floor.

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It was five hours later, when Jim found himself deep in conversation with a stranger in a bar. He had walked carelessly in the streets and finally stopped in front of this bar.

"And then I told him that I needed to change my will ASAP. He thought I was afraid of getting killed for money," Mike chuckled, "why would she kill me when she can just divorce me and ..." he stopped, sensing that Jim was not hearing a word of what he said.

"Chill out dude, take it easy." Mike said, patting Jim on the shoulder.

"How can I? My whole life is finished."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic. It's not that bad,"

"Ten years, I've given that company ten years of my life and this is how they repay me."

"I gave her fifteen years of my life, we were married for ten," Mike said bitterly, more to himself than to Jim, as he emptied his glass in a single sip and signalled for more.

"What if she leaves me?"

"Better yet. If she is that kind of girl, then you don't want to marry her in the first place."

Jim nodded. Mike was right. Becky won't be like that. But still, he could not bring it to himself to tell her.

"So, talked to your lawyer yet?" Jim asked.

"Patrick says that getting a divorce will not be a problem but she might ask for alimony." Mike said changing his calm demeanor, "Like I'm gonna pay her a single penny."

Jim realised how much pain was hidden inside Mike.

"I was asking about the will."

"It will be done by tomorrow. Let's hope for the sake of those African orphans that I don't die today," Mike said holding out his drink, "or that b...- she will get everything." No matter how much he hated his wife, he still loved her and could not call her names.