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I will Survive

June 26, 2011

It’s the morning of my first day. The sun is shining, the birds are singing. Everything seems perfect…. Except the time. I’m already running late. I was supposed to be at work by 9am. Its 8:15 and if the underground is working to schedule, I have 40 minutes to get into Central London and get to my office which is 10 minutes away. I over slept thanks to another night out on the town.

I should have just buried my head in my pillow and given up there and then. Actually, I think my morning would have been much better if I had. Let me explain.

So I’m running late and while I dress, I make me some toast (which burns) and tea (which I don’t end up drinking). I’m stilling putting on my jacket as I run down the flight of stairs with the toast in my mouth. Porter Boy is there as per usual on his morning shift and tries to get in my way for a morning talk (we spent Sunday morning conversing before I left for a picnic for one in Hyde Park). I warn him I’m running late so he lets me run past him, still eating my toast.

Eventually, I am only 15 minutes late, and as luck would have it, the person who is doing my induction is even later still. So I sit in the reception, waiting for my mentor type person to come and collect me. There are over 20 floors in this building, each with a different office. Sort of Ugly Betty style, except the newspaper I am now probationally working for only occupies three floors for its National Paper, Fashion Magazine and some smaller, not as well-known paper.

Every time a smart-looking man or woman walked towards me, I got up, smartened my shirt and held out my hand waiting to be greeted. Only to be met with a sarcastic face as they walked on by me. I would frown, resume my seat then repeat the next time someone walked my way. (at this point I shall inform you that my interview was taken at some Cafe not far from here, or I would have gone to my office on my own accord)

“Miss…. Umm… Sammy?”

A voice brakes my thoughts and I look up to see the scruffiest looking person, complete with specticals and an unshaven face, looking at me with some sort of file in his hands. He seemed to refuse calling me by my surname as he raised his eyebrows in my general direction.

“It’s Indi. I prefer Indi.” I correct him as I stand up and hold out my hand. He graciously shakes it before jerking his head towards the elevators. “Follow me, They are waiting for you.” So this wasn’t the guy I was going to be looked after, this was the in-between guy. I follow this casually dressed man through the sea of black smart wear to the elevator across the lavish reception. People stare at us as we stood in the elevator, making me uncomfortable. Speckles, however, seemed to know half of these people. Completely ignoring me, he brakes into conversation with one of the smarties until the elevator opens its doors to our floor. “See you tomorrow night then!” After making his drink date with the said Smartie, Speckles leads me through the hallway of heaven.

I say heaven because I have never seen an office so cool and so relaxed! In every office I looked into, girls were chatting, boys were laughing and I looked like I was in the wrong department with my smart wear. “OOOOOO you must be the newbie!” She sounded so excited as she almost ran out of the office. This thirty-something old women had such a caring looking face that I couldn’t help but smile and nod. Speckles only chuckles and introduces the red head as the Mama Hen. “Nice to meet you.” I smile and hold out my hand but she just waves it off. “Thats not how we do things around here.” And with that, I get my first ever professional hug. “I’ll take her from here thank you. She is in my area.” Speckles leaves to continue his walk to his own destination, leaving me with Mama Hen.

I walk into this glassed off department after my new…. manager? or boss? I wasn’t sure, but she was in charge of me as far as I knew. It was a department of women and one lone man. “Ladies, here’s our new girl…. er… what’s your name?” I stand there, smiling at everybody like a goon before it takes me a moment to realise she has just asked me a question. “Oh, sorry. Its Indi, call me Indi.”

“Indi. Welcome to our area Indi. This is, Misha” The blonde in the corner turns and waves. “Jenny.” The Blonde next to her, waves. “Michael.” The lone Rider actually gets up and hugs me, proving my theory that he may not have been batting for the straight team when he excitedly welcomes me to the group. He also has this Perez Hilton thing going on that was kinda cool. “And that is Terri.” The brunette doesn’t even bother to turn. Apparently my arrival is not welcomed by all. But hey you win some you loose some.

So I was in the area of the arts. My job was to communicate with the public the news of the current art topics. I could do this. Visit a few theatres. Maybe review a movie. Like all girls, I really wanted to be in fashion, but if you looked at me, I was Anne Hathaway’s Andy before Meryl Streep’s Miranda tore her apart. Fashion was just not my strong point. But I loved writing, and my blog had shown the HR department that I was capable, despite my academic background. Arts was good. I had a shot. I had two weeks, to come up with two completely different stories to do with the arts. My first deadline was Friday this week. So after being shown around the whole floor and introduced to members of the different area’s, I sit down to work.

Who knew that writing for one specific subject was so hard. I google, I bing, I ask…. nothing. I cannot find anything that is worthy of a story. So I call over to Lone Rider. “Hey… what should I write about?” All I get is a look of pity and a toss of this weeks entertainment guide. “You need to go out and look hunni.” He winks then turns around to continue with his work on writing about the latest disaster on the Spider Man Musical rehearsals. As I start flipping through the magazine, trying to find something that could lead me to a story, I hear my name and see Mama Hen’s head poking through the door. “Hey wanna meet the co-editor?” Did I really? No. But was I going to? Sure why not.

So I get up and walk out of the office. Mama Hen is standing on the other side of the hall talking to some guy with his back to me. He looked young, so I guess he was the co-ed. The guy who had interviewed me had mentioned that the new editor was the nephew of the person who owned the company. “Indi. Come here.” Mama Hen seemed excited as she waves me over. I assume she must always walk and talk with excitement. But then he turns around and I stop in my tracks, blink a few times, then almost faint.

That guy was Mr Smooth….

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One Comment leave one →
  1. June 27, 2011 6:17 am

    I’m so glad Mr Smooth is back into the picture. He seems like a nice guy, buying Indi a drink etc. Hope he turns out to be a good guy in the story 😛

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