Short Story - Breaking Bad

A young man. About thirty something. Neither very high nor very low. Neither fat nor thin. A type of the most normal.
He speaks on his cell phone in an accelerated tone. He is one of those types that produces an unpleasant sensation in the listener. With that tone of voice that gets into the fallopian tube causing tears. Of those who still speak softly, in the group of voices are the alpha voice.
In short, a guy that alters the nerves of guys like me. Of which nature should have prevented birth.

Well, all that description to emphasize that right now there is one of those guys on the sidewalk talking on the phone.
With the sepulchral silence and waiting room that reigns in the lobby, the guy's voice reaches my ears in a very unpleasant way.

I watch it. I want him to leave with his voice to another part, that he is going to take the ass.
But the guy is still planted there. Listening, liking.
I am forced to listen to a conversation that does not interest me at all. That deconcentrates me from my reading and invades my space.

The guy gesticulates supporting his arguments.

I am nervous. Wondering why I have to put up with the disgusting conversation and voice tone of that guy that I do not care about at all. Why should I suffer because of a subject that I do not know about anything and that I will not see again in my life?
I decide to put into practice a trick that almost never fails. It is not the first time that I have a person there in front of me, beating voices for the mobile phone.

The trick is simple. I sit right behind him so close that only the glass of access to this hall separates us from which I can not move.
Generally the person in question notices my presence. He looks at me out of the corner of his eye with displeasure but goes where no one bothers him. They know they can not tell me anything. I am the security guard of the building that is in its place and that person knows that it is she herself who is on the carpet on the outside of that entrance. They choose to look at me with contempt and as I said they are going with their mobile to other places outside of my visual field and especially auditory.

Today the trick does not work.

The guy looked at me with contempt, yes. But there he still stands talking as if nothing.
I leave and I stand beside him and always within the limits of the entrance outside the building. I start to whistle to annoy him.
The guy follows his own. He has not flinched. The only thing I have achieved is that now speak louder.
He looks at me out of the corner of his eye and gives me a half smile. And in that half smile of arrogance I read your message? I've seen your game and I laugh in your face. And now you're going to have to put up with me until I get out of my balls, shit

and I sit down after the reception.

I remain nervous and decide to take it with philosophy. He will leave by himself, he will not be there all afternoon ...

No. Impossible to continue reading with that voice drilling my balls.
I leave the reading for later. I get with the sudokus.

The shrill, nasal voice goes on and on. He laughs out loud, shouts, takes over the lobby. Only that voice and me.
The conversation never seems to end.

It is unfair.
I get red. Anger begins to take hold of me.
That a guy who is passing through and who has nothing to do with the object of my work, this building and that I will not see again has the right to be fucking me this way ...

I watch it. He knows how much he's fucking me. Our eyes coincide several times very fleetingly.
I'm so tired ...

At last he says goodbye to his interlocutor.

I breathe a sigh of relief and open the book on the page where I left it. I start reading. But I notice that the guy has not saved the phone. And it's still planted there.

Horror! Type again

?Hello how are you!!

It's a scream that makes me jump out of the chair. He is literally yelling at the cell phone. Shout with exaggerated joy. Exaggerated laughter strident.
Can you be more imbecile? I think I

try again the trick of placing myself behind stuck to it. It does not change and it comes higher.

I decide to use the same weapons.

I open the front door and stand next to him. Practically shoulder to shoulder.
I take out my phone and pretend to dial.

I start to scream with more joy than his. With psychopathic laughter. The scandal is huge.
He does not flinch. But my heart can not pump faster.

The passers-by who pass in front look with disgust and disgust. Only me. Not him.
I am the uniformed one therefore the despicable one.

I get the feeling of ridicule. The situation embarrasses me.

The guy follows his own broadening the smile.
The nerves make breathing difficult for me. I keep the phone. And I'm about to get tired of the surreal situation.

I take one last look.
I discover that he no longer conceals and he is looking at me with impudence and smiling triumphantly. A smile full of teeth. A smile from the idiot who gets away with it.

Everything happens very fast.
In a quick movement I remove the mobile.
Before his smile is conscious and disappears from his face the cell phone inside him. I feel his teeth stuck in my hand. The mobile is between the trachea and the tongue.

I hear people scream. A kind of fog prevents me from seeing and feeling. I feel a skull creak under my coarse shoe soles in uniform. I jump and jump over that skull that cracks. Some bones crack my sock and sink in my ankle. My hands resting on the wall so I can jump at pleasure on that mass of bones, blood and gray mass ...

Voices. Many voices The voice of the guy who started jumping on his head is the month he felt has stopped screaming a while ago.

I think now the one that shrieks the most is me. We all scream

I look at my bloodied feet.

I think tonight I will not see the last episode of Breaking Bad

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