A long time ago there was a thing called a telephone. The device had a handset (a handle shaped object that was held up against the head with a speaker going to an ear and a microphone that went to the mouth), and a receiver (a boxy shaped device with a rotary dial at first, but was latter replaced with buttons). The handset would sit on the receiver when the phone was not in use. It would be picked up to place a call or receive one. It would then be set back into the cradle to end the call. Simon remembered old videos where people would get upset with the person they were talking to and slam the handset down on the receiver.
He felt like doing this. He sneered at the folio sitting on the desk. The modern equivalent was to press the END CALL button so hard you finger went through the screen. Simon knew just how much force would be needed to do this so he never found it funny. Besides, the call had already ended, terminated by the caller. He reacted in the only way he could.
“Damn it! Damn it to Hell!” he yelled, “Rotten bitch!” and stormed out of his room.
“Bad news, then?” his room mate asked, barely looking up from his video game.
“Transferred. Again.”
“That makes, what? Three times?”
“Five.” He pulled a beer out of the refrigerator. “Five times in seventeen months. Should have known something up when Parker asked how I was settling in. Shouldn't have said I was hardly unpacked. Cow.”
He stormed back into his room.
He'd been honest when he said he was hardly unpacked, but he'd barely been there a month and he couldn't even remember the names of any of his room mates. Of course, if any of them had social skills and not spent all their downtime playing that stupid MMORPG he'd probably had bothered to learn them.
Sitting down at his desk and opening the beer, he noticed a message waiting for him. Official transfer paperwork, travel itinerary and a voucher for the train. Did they spring for a bullet train or an express? No. Three thousand miles across country on three different regionals for three days.
Screw that.
The ticket had an upgrade option, and there was enough money in his travel stipend to upgrade to express. This would be two days and two trains, but at least he would have a cabin and there'd be a drinks car.
He put the travel locks in places on his dresser. The movers would be there in the morning to collect it. He packed his travel bag which he always kept three days change of cloths in. He'd learned his lesson. Picking up the bag he headed for the door and unceremoniously left.
He knew he wouldn't miss this place and figured he probably wouldn't even remember it.
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