That bastard Tim is over there showing it off again. He’s got that shiny thing out, flopping and rolling around. He knows we can all see him playing with it. He also knows that the rest of us will look at ours and feel nothing but inadequate.
Jim shows up. Cool Jim, the boss man. Everyone is always fighting for his favor. But, like all others, he only wants to talk to the guy whose is biggest. He watches as Tim works it over with his hands, rubbing scented oils and lotion all over it. The excitement of the two men is palpable.
Mine looks small and shriveled. It lies there most of the time looking pathetic. Hell, my wife won’t even play with it any more, though I desperately want her to. I tell her that scented oils and lotions might make it livelier. If it were livelier, it would be fun for both of us to play with.
Jim claps and a couple of guys look over the cubicle walls as Tim gets it to do a flip. Goddamn him, he makes it impossible to get any work done. I look up and see that he now has the damn thing standing up, begging for everyone to touch it.
Now it’s rolling over, exposing its pink, veined belly to everyone. Several of the other guys clap, completely ignoring theirs. I grumble to myself and turn back to mine. It is just lying there, small and wasted. I push it aside and return to my work. God, I fucking hate Tim and his little pony.