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Me, Myself and I

June 28, 2011

It was the most embarrassing first day of work ever. And not for the reasons you may have thought so. The fact that I came face to face with Mr Smooth once more was obviously not horrific enough to embarrass me. Apparently, I had to be further humiliated, by Mr Smooth  not even remembering me! The nerve of him! I let him buy me two drinks and take me home and he didn’t even remember me! (I kind of forgot at that point that we were both worse for wear on Friday night, and come Saturday morning, I bolt before he even woke…. but still! That is no excuse!)

And this was all before I had even had a lunch break! Lucky for me, Lone Ranger decided to take me on a tour of the city since I was struggling with my article. Apparently, The Arts, was another term for Entertainment. The paper just wanted to be all posh and use less letters. Since I had started pulling my hair out, I was thankful for the assistance. So as lunch break came, Lone Ranger told me to throw on my (‘sorry-excuse-for-a’) coat and come out with him.

He took me to this cute cafe place on the back end of the complex. I hadn’t seen the other side of this area before but from what I was looking at, it was beautiful. It was like a little mini Italia in London. There was a square and surrounding it were cafes and restaurants. “This is where all the meetings happen…. and all the interviews…. for the higher ups.” He must have added the last part when he saw my face. My interview had happened in a very different part of town. This place was like a little piece of heaven. Even noise pollution from the ever present traffic seemed to disappear in this place. And the amount of green…. I had never seen so many living plants in London before! This was definitely a whole new level of cool.

How did I not know this place existed?” I looked at him as we walked to one of the cafes, which I presumed must have been his favourite as he was instantly greeted warmly. “London has all sorts of these places, you just have to look in the right direction. Come sit.” So we sat in this shaded outdoor courtyard while we waited for our toasted sandwiches and coffees. “So… your struggling aren’t you.” There was no hiding from him. After all, he was the tech of our area. Lone Ranger was the guy who updated our section of the newspapers website daily… and sometimes, hourly depending on if we had breaking news. He saw alot better acting than what I had been portraying all morning. Especially after my embarrassing run in with Mr Smooth.

I was about to answer him with a lie. I was fine. I was just getting into the swing of things. But he gave me that look. You know the one, the one your mother gives you when she knows your fibbing. It was that look. So I pouted and let out a dramatic audible sigh to match my nod. “Yeah… but it doesn’t help that our Co-Ed is a douche.” Uh-oh. That wasn’t supposed to come out of my mouth. Damn my brain for not thinking quietly! “You’ve known him five seconds. Why on earth would you call him a douche after five sec….. Oh… am I missing something?”

I know what your thinking.. I didn’t tell him anything right? Wrong. Remember, I was lonely, and I wanted to make some friends. I’m also a girl. Gossip like this gets you places. I’m not proud of it.

So I told him everything that happened on Friday night. But I didn’t get the reaction I had expected with this kind of gossip. I got a stern look and an evil eye. maybe he wasn’t as gay as I had expected…. maybe I shouldn’t be so stereotypical. Shit what did I do.. “Here’s a piece of advice sweet heart. Don’t tell this to ANYONE. Especially Mama Hen. He is a married man. His wife is a good woman, so stay away from him.” HE WAS MARRIED! WTF!!

Yeah that was a shocker to me too. I spent the entire rest of the day reeling about it. Not only had I let myself go that night. I had let myself go with a married man. My mom always told me that alcohol would get me into trouble one day. And so it has. God all I hope now is that his wife had not been there when I was with him that night. I was pretty sure that was his place, what with all the pictures around. But there were no pictures of women… but then maybe I hadn’t looked properly…..

When I got home that night, Porter Boy was waiting for me. He had wanted to know how my first day had been so I invited him up for a coffee. As we got talking, the topic soon turned from my job (me carefully leaving out the dilemma of Friday night) to our families. Porter Boy was the youngest in a large family. It had never occurred to me that English people were capable of having large broods. (Well apart from Angelina Jolie). I had always assumed that the only people who would ever say they had plenty of siblings would always be ethnic. After all, my mom was the middle child of seven siblings and my dad had four younger brothers. But saying that, I was an only child so maybe times had changed.

Before leaving, Porter Boy reminded me of something that really put my mind in motion for the rest of the week. That I was doing this job to prove to myself and anyone else, that I could make it just as good as the next person, despite all the difficulties. I can never thank Porter Boy enough for reminding me to focus. At the end of the day, all I’ll ever have is me, myself and I to blame.

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One Comment leave one →
  1. July 2, 2011 9:41 am

    Hello, so happy I found your post in the forum tonight. I just read through all of your posts, and…. I LOVE IT!! Not like any other blog I subscribe to yet, and I really like that about ! I read about one fiction book a week, so this is right up my alley! Great job! 🙂 I just started my blog this week, too. We creative types need to stick together, so I just subscribed to your blog! Best of luck, and I can’t wait to read the next post.

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