I think my imaginary assistant Amanda is going to quit. She will not be missed, but it is hard to find people who work for free these days, even if they are imaginary.

She came strolling into my bedroom at 7AM today, without even a knock.

"How did you get in here?" I said.

"Your roommate let me in when he was leaving for the airport. He's a cutie, by the way."

"You think everyone's cute, Amanda."

"I don't think you're cute. Especially at seven in the morning. Look at you, you're a wreck," she said.

I was naked, one breast peeking out from under the covers. My hair stuck in all directions. I didn't need to look at myself to know I wasn't at my finest.

"And look at me..." she continued.

Did I really have to? I looked at her all the time: her perfect ass; her pert, pointed breasts; the glimmer of her young(er), creamy skin. The average cost of one of her stylish outfits equals slightly less than my rent. Why does Amanda always want me to look at her? And why was she in my apartment at 7AM?

I sighed. "Is there something you need?"

"Well I just had a thought, and I needed an answer immediately. I knew you wouldn't answer your phone, so that's why I stopped by." She tapped her finger to her chin.

"It couldn't wait?"

"I never wait. I don't like to wait. Waiting is for people who have to." She sat down on the end of the bed.

"Fine. Ask."

"How much vacation time do I have? And do I have a severance package? I've been hearing from all of my other assistant friends that in all of these layoffs going on in Silicon Alley, the assistants are always the first to go. The assistants and the marketing people. And the ugly people."

"Amanda, you don't exist! You're not here. You don't even get paid! You're imaginary! Let me sleep!"

"I know, I know," she said. "But if I were real, what kind of severance would I get if you had to lay me off?"

"I don't even pay you. Give me a fucking break."

"Um, I would just like to let you know that you are not being a very supportive manager right now, and I do not feel like I am being heard," she sniffed.

I put the pillow over my head. Maybe if I held it there long enough, I thought, she would return from whence she came. I pulled the pillow off, but she was still there.

"Two weeks," I said. "Two weeks vacation, and two weeks severance. How does that sound?"

"That sounds great! So, I'm going to need to go on vacation in November, ok?"

"But you just started," I whined. What the fuck? -- Why was I answering her? What was happening to me?

"I know, I know, but I think I'm going to go with Will to Illinois for a while."

"Will?"

"Yes."

"Will? My friend Will?"

"Yes, we're madly in love."

"Huh."

"I thought I'd go check out America's heartland. I heard it's nice this time of year."

"It's awful this time of year, actually," I said. "It's pretty fucking miserable and cold."

"I want to see a cow. I've never seen one before."

"Great. Go. You will not be missed."

"Oh, you'll miss me," she said, and then she winked. "You don't know what you did before I got here." And with that, she got up and left, swinging her saucy ass all the way.

I pray that she never returns.

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