Stuck in a quantum time loop at Art's place

I was stuck in a dimension-shifting time loop, but as usual, I didn't know it at the time. Things would appear to change, and the characters would change roles, but template was the same: I was stuck at the house of Art Mele, my former employer. He had a work-from-home business going on, but he still had lots of his employees from YC Honda, myself and Glenda from parts being two of them.

On one occasion, a group of us were sitting around the lunch table, and we overheard one of the secretaries talking about an impending termination. Someone was getting the axe. From the other room we heard the sound of Glenda as she burst into tears.

"I can't believe you're letting me go!" she sobbed. "After all these years! How will I survive?" Glenda had been fired in real life for embezzling more than $60,000 in parts through various fraudulent accounting techniques.

Smug faces around the lunch table were tight lipped, but you could see the malevolent mirth in their eyes. They were just glad it wasn't their number that had come up. Everyone knew that cuts were coming, and with Glenda as the sacrificial goat, they could breathe easier, at least for another day.

Lounging around seemed to be the main occupation at Art's place, and yet everyone scrambled to look busy when the boss came around. I hastened to make myself useful as the town crier of mail delivery.

"The gun books are here! The gun books are here!" I announced gleefully. A new paperback edition of Guns and Ammo was always something Art looked forward to, so being the one to bring him the news of his favorite publication's arrival was sure to garner favor. 

I brought Art a copy after briefly thumbing through it. The cover was wrinkled, and a few pages were dog-eared. This wouldn't go over well, I thought to myself, projecting into the future my own immanent termination. One was always on unsteady ground around here. Art didn't look up, so I left the book on the counter and made myself scarce.

Next, I found myself with a date. It was after hours, so the protocol was to party and have fun. People paired up and got busy drinking and making out in various rooms of the house. I don't know who the date was, but I realized that it was someone other than my significant other, and although I might have wanted to mess around, I was fearful of getting caught. I tactfully detached her from my arm and looked around for my real date.

This is where the time loop started becoming evident. It wasn't my wife, but Lesa, who I was concerned about catching me. She was just leaving the party when I was being flirted with by this other girl. I chased after her just as it began to rain. I saw her crossing the street as I stood there fiddling with an impossibly bent and mangled umbrella. She vanished, and the loop reset.

I was back in the house, wandering through the many rooms of drunken revelers. I got a few invitations to join groups of people, but I was looking for my wife, so I declined. Finally, I found her, and we went into one of the rooms and got onto the bed. Partially disrobed, we began to make out, her straddling me and me tugging at her undergarments. I wanted her in the worst way, but I had forgotten to lock the door, so we had to keep it PG-13.

Finally, I'd couldn't stand it anymore, and I got up to lock the door, but the damned lock was busted. That's just great, I thought. Now we're going to be joined by any Tom, Dick and Harry that wants to horn in on the action. 

A minute passed, and my prediction came true. In walked a grey haired potato of a man in his fifties. I looked him over and decided that he was me, or a possible version of me. I didn't like the looks of this. My wife was sure to fall for his self-effacing charm and his helpful manner. 

"She's not going to have sex with you!" I blurted out preemptively. I realized that my statement hadn't ruled out the possibility of him trying to have sex with me, but I didn't bother to qualify or clarify my statement. This version of me wasn't my type.

The next thing I knew, my wife was up off the bed and engaged in a conversation with this lumpy fellow. He attempted to swing dance with her right there in front of me, giving her a few twirls, which she apparently enjoyed. 

"Don't you need to find a tow truck or something?" she said to me. 

Damn. She was right. I did need to find a tow truck, since my car had been stuck here for days. It was the reason for this entire time loop, the reason I couldn't just up and leave the party and drive away. And this guy, as it happened, was a tow truck driver. 

I went out to look at my car, a black NSX in a state of partial disassembly, and hung my head. It was in too bad of a condition to even be towed. I was never going to get out of here. I woke up, frustrated and jealous, but not just a little relieved.