I owned several printers and for varying reasons none of them worked. The one that did, didn't have any ink and I didn't need enough ink to justify purchasing the cartridge. I did the only logical thing I thought of. I went to the library.
The day was beautiful, if not a little too hot for early summer. Everything looked green and brilliant, all mixed up with the cement and buildings. I spent the walk there trying to forget about my last trip and how unfortunate the whole incident had been. I didn't even look at the stairs to the basement.
I spent twenty dollars on my little project by the time I finished. I would have been better off buying the cartridge. I gathered up all my papers. I put them away in a manila folder while still warm. I stood up and started to walk out. I thought about if I should hole punch them, or if I wanted to do something more elaborate.
I didn't look up as I walked. My decorative plans for my project distracted me. I turned and collided with a man. He was on the tall side, about six feet one. He had blonde hair, cut much shorter than I would like. His green eyes reminded me of springtime and new life. His bone structure looked masculine yet delicate. His eyes lit with recognition.
The penises cascaded from my hands to the floor as I took in his handsome face. Him, the man who looked for the bird book. Time seemed to not be moving or maybe my body wouldn't respond. My brain screamed for me to do something, do anything.
Erect penises canvased the floor. I told myself to pick them up but stood still, shocked. He bent down, with a confused look on his face. He froze for a moment as he took in what he helped me with. He pushed the papers together into a pile.
I regained control of my body and knelt beside him helping to gather the emails and erect penises. My face flamed. The shock of the whole thing the only thing keeping the tears inside my body. The process took longer than I hoped. I was too humiliated to even glance at him.
He handed me the pile he collected, pushing the papers into my line of vision. I don't know if he guessed I didn't want to look at him, or if he tried and realized I wouldn't look. I muttered "thank you" in a small and defeated voice. I hoped he would leave me there on the floor and not prolong my misery. Luck and I didn't get along.
"Interesting project you have here. You found looking for an old book on birds odd." I didn't blush often, but my face burned deep crimson. I had nothing to say. So, I stood there looking at the ground holding the pile of papers scanning the floor for any stragglers. He picked up the last couple of penis free emails off the floor and handed them to me. "I guess you are as attractive as you said. Would you like to go for that shot and explain where my email is going to end up?" His eyebrows did this taunting thing. The motion was flirtatious and challenging. I warmed to it despite myself.
"Uhm, no thank you." I was sure spending any more time with him was a mistake. I didn't think anyone witnessed more of my embarrassment in my entire life. He waited for me to say something, but I couldn't discern what. Whatever he wanted I didn't have. I ran passed him and straight home. I didn't run. The desire to be curled in my bed the only thing that kept me moving.
I panted as I completed my race. I exerted too much effort to unlock my door. The exertion kept the tears inside me and I wouldn't let them out before I got inside. I wrenched back the metal, throwing myself inside. The embarrassment took the joy out of putting my book together. I laid in my bed and cried. I couldn't do a single thing right.
I laid there for a long time. I heard a ding from my email. I looked up realizing night had come. I decided not to check. It was probably another super close-up. I didn't need anything more to add to the scrapbook. A wild part of me that thought it might be him. That idea horrified and tantalized me. I resented myself for being stupid enough to experience the latter of the two.
I tried to tuck my blanket around myself tighter as if the fabric would strengthen my resolve. The more I thought the less I could stand the mystery. The anxiety inside me threatened to bubble over if I didn't check the email. My heart jumped into my throat as I clicked open yet another penis. I went back to the main inbox, and beneath the penis, the subject line "Prolonging your misery".
I would like to say I took no pleasure in our meeting today, but I try to consider myself an honest man. I admit when I responded to your ad I was just having some fun. It seems from our rather odd encounter, so were you. I'm intensely curious to know where my emails and the dicks of half the city are going to end up. Strangely enough, the plenty of tits and ass is not your most redeeming quality. You provide a wealth of entertainment. Oh, your face is pretty great too."
-Able to get the job done right
My heart thumped in that annoying way. I needed a moment before I breathed again. My hands hovered above the keys. I typed out a few different options. Each one came out more anticlimactic than the last. I had no guess what I wanted. I couldn't think of anything I should say. I didn't want to tell him anything at all. My racing heart didn't make my decisions for me. I decided on aversion. I deleted the draft.
There was no positive impact on my mental state. I returned to my bed to languish. What did this guy want? If he still wanted to screw me that was alright, but that was not what I got from that email. Maybe he wanted confirmation I wouldn't share his email and the address associated. My mind ran in circles thinking everything out. The possibilities didn't end, and I didn't know him well enough to form any definitive conclusions.
I couldn't believe that he remained interested in me. Who in their right mind would be after that? All the while thoughts of his naked body popped into my head. My racing heart wouldn't slow. My body started to warm and soften at the thought of him. There must be something wrong with me if being this embarrassed and twisted up left me wanting him.
4
Work became more interesting. I the misery of my displacement faded, and I warmed without its presence. I began talking to some other women in the office. Women made up the majority of the office staff. Some of them I almost liked. My overbearing office manager started opening up to me a little bit. I realized she bore an incredible amount of pressure. I couldn't blame her for how she handled it. People are difficult creatures to manage.
The office held a mix of counselors for admissions, financial aid, and registration. The different department heads had offices there if they lived local. Secretarial positions higher up than my own made up a small number of the staff. Then you had support staff like myself. My position in the office came down to a daily lottery. Some project always needed completing. Most of the tasks didn't require much thought. A lot of tasks consisted of sorting and filing forms and paperwork. The work suited me well enough.
One night as things wound down Tyler, the one counselor who been friendly to me, came to chat with me at my desk. That was normal. The last couple of weeks he talked to me pretty often. He was a friendly guy. He was nice to remain interested in how I adjusted. I didn't pay much attention to what he said. "Would you like to go out with me tonight?" He asked me, clearing me of my abstraction and shattering the image I cultivated. I blinked, surprised.
Was I interested in him? I looked him over trying to decide fast. He had a handsome enough face with brown hair, and brown eyes. He looked muscular. He seemed interested in me now. This came close to what I wanted. Dating at work can be a terrible idea, but loneliness clouded my judgement. He stared at me while I thought.
I told him "Okay" and we made plans for him to get me at my house in a little over an hour. We planned to go to a new restaurant downtown. I rushed to catch the bus, not sure if what went on in my stomach was the right kind of anxiety. I got to the bus stop as the bus began closing the door to pull away. I got through the doors the moment before they connected. I caught the line that went right in front of my apartment. The ride took a long time. I tapped my fingers until we reached my block. I pulled the cord and hopped out in front of my building.
I went inside as fast as possible. I got dressed as fast. I put on a tight dress black dress and red pumps. The place w
as nice, and I wanted to look good there. I didn't own anything between casual and smoking hot. I wasn't sure I liked him, but I knew how he would respond to this outfit. If he liked me in my work clothes this would knock him out.
I pulled my hair back. The strands tended to be wild. I put on a little fresh makeup and moved my things into a small bag with a thin metal chain for a strap. I heard a knock at the door. I moved slowly, not wanting him to hear me approaching. I peeked through the hole.
Tyler stood there. I looked him over. He had a handsome face, but he knew. I judged his stance and the expression on his face. I pulled back the door and saw that he wore a light grey suit. The cut looked great on him. I looked him up and down. He could be my distraction.
"Well, hi." He said both flirtatious and expectant. "Can I come in?"
My brows furrowed. "Uhm sure." I expected we would go straight to the restaurant. I had no time to pick up the mess I lived in. Pure shock and years of ingrained politeness made me stand back and open my home to him.
He strode in with such assuredness that for a moment I thought I forgot that we made plans. We must have agreed to do drinks at my house first. "Nice Place" he commented, disingenuous. We had no such plans.
"Thanks." I replied trying to keep the growing resentment out of my voice. His eyes moved around the room judging the state of my home. I bristled against the judgement, but I couldn't completely blame him. It was an over the top mess, cluttered but not filthy. I liked to think of it as whirlwind of colorful disorder. I bristled against his prying eyes. I didn't have much patience for the man who invited himself in.
"Can I sit?" he asked moving to my couch.
I tried to put up my hands to stop him. "Oh, I figured we would go straight to the restaurant. It's already seven." He sat down anyway.
"Let's sit for a minute." He patted the cushion next to him. I wondered how often he got his way.
I made my voice confident, "No, let's go now. I'm excited to try this place. I haven't been." I gave him a sweet fake smile. I couldn't help but wonder if I made a mistake giving him my address.
I suppose he possessed some modicum of humility because he stood up. "Okay!" He threw his hands in the air. He went to the door, stomping his feet a little too hard. I waited for him to throw a legitimate fit. Instead, he held the door open for me. He waved a tense hand gesturing for me to go.
He was polite while being rude with amazing flare. He would hold the door open but let out annoyed little sighs when I didn't move fast enough. He held out my chair and made a comment about how "women should appreciate chivalry". I said thank you each time he did something like that, but that fell far short of enough. I was terrified by his personal combination of charismatic and repellent.
We sat over plates of salad with posh ingredients. He shoved salad and bread into his mouth as he spoke. I picked at the lettuce, not hungry. "I could've gone to med school or something. I mean I'm smart enough." He picked at his teeth. "My IQ is genius level. I won't mention my score because most people are threatened."
He sucked air through his teeth seeming to work something out from between them. "I'm smart enough to be an engineer or anything I want. Being an admissions counselor is cool though. I'm a role model. I help mold young minds. I mean who else gets to do that?" I thought a lot of answers to that question. It was clearly rhetorical. He steam-rolled on carrying the conversation all by himself.
I found myself imaging the poor waif whose life he would one day ruin. Anyone who dealt with the object of all that self-adoration would need a strong stomach. He made that clear as he continued with his monologue straight through to dessert. His confidence amazed me. He didn't think about whether I cared. He assumed that I did with certainty that bordered on delusion. As much as I couldn't stand this guy I was impressed with his lack of self-awareness. I wondered what I might accomplish if I possessed half his nerve.
He grew up with money and parents that liked to spend well. He led an interesting life and had plenty of interesting stories to tell. He ruined them with his narcissistic spin on things. I hoped some of the people in the world who afforded travel and remarkable experiences like riding elephants deserved to. This guy didn't. I ordered something cheap. I didn't need Tyler thinking I owed him. My stomach was already full of stone.
Each word he spoke enforced what should have intuited. This retired frat boy was the antithesis of what I wanted, not in a man but any person. He ordered the crème brulé. He offered me a bite, not wanting me to accept. I rejected. I didn't want his mouth anywhere near my own. He wolfed down the custard. He was halfway through when I realized my predicament.
This cretin didn't seem like the type who enjoyed being told no. He clarified in his every manner and action since arriving that he wanted to sleep with me. He would have tried to fuck me on my couch before he bought me dinner I let him. His position outranked my own which made me uncomfortable. I was undersexed, and less turned on than ever.
I regretted the fact that I needed him for a ride home. I thought about sneaking out and calling a cab. The idea didn't seem bad, but I intuited he wouldn't let me walk out alone. I wracked my brain for ways out of this without a confrontation. I didn't want to tell him no and push him away. I didn't want him to touch me and try to kiss me anyway. I was scared what his reaction would be when he realized he was being rejected. I thought so hard I stopped breathing.
"Hey, are you alright?" He stopped talking about himself long enough to notice me. "Your face is bright red." He sounded a little disgusted and concerned he might not get laid.
Inspiration hit me. "Uhm, no, I don't think I am actually. I held my stomach and leaned forward. I continued holding my breath attempting to keep my face nice and red. "I'm going to be sick." I let my throat distort around the final word forming a gag. My guess that he didn't like to care for others paid off. He leaned back from the table as far as he could. He eyed me like a bomb about to go off. I patted my napkin to my mouth and moaned a little. I went too far, but I couldn't help myself. I was prone to the dramatic.
"I should get you home." He told me with that labored politeness he mastered. He waved the waiter over. He had our check ready. He handed him a credit card and a few minutes later he came back. I he signed the receipt and leave our perfectly fine waiter an eight percent tip. I really couldn't stand this guy.
He ushered me out of the restaurant mumbling something about his interior. For the first time in my life I wished I had a stomach bug. I started thinking of things I would be willing to trade for the ability to ruin his interior. He drove me home oscillating between moving too slow and careful and too quick. He couldn't decide what was preferable, having me out faster or not upsetting my stomach further.
I said nothing. I kept my hand over my mouth and pretended puke would fly out if I moved. He didn't try to make any conversation. There was light traffic and the trip took a lot longer than I hoped. When we got to my apartment I told him, sorry. I wished that this hadn't been necessary. A voice in my head assured me it was.
I ran from his car pretending I was about to be sick. I ran into my building, down the hall, and unlocked my door. I slammed it shut and flipped on my lights. My apartment remained a perfect metaphor for my life, a mess. I leaned against the shut door and slid to my butt. "What the hell am I going to do about that?" I asked no one.
5
The day after the incident with Tyler I went into work for a couple of hours but faked a stomach ache to leave early. I couldn't get away with that excuse many more times. Tyler came over to talk to me in my brief time there. He asked me if I wanted to reschedule. He lifted his brows in a suggestive way and leered at me like a steak he wanted to eat.
I told him I was busy the next few weeks and didn't think I had time. I made certain not to say that I wanted to. I wanted to let him down gently not encourage him further. His face twisted in a way that made me think he understood I was rejecting him. I needed to get away from him.
I wanted to leave work so much I
didn't think about what I would do with my freedom. I found myself home wondering if I would have been better off staying there and getting paid. I thought of Tyler looking at me and the insult I saw in his eyes. At least he realized I wouldn't sleep with him. I decided a mental health day made the most sense for me. I wouldn't suffer guilt about something I needed.
I went over to my computer. It could tell me what to do with my time. I opened my email. My heart thumped a strange rhythm as I took in that my library stranger emailed again.
I'm certain my emails have reached you. The modern age is great like that with all these reliable communication methods. With that in my mind I still find myself waiting on your reply. I'm hoping my optimism will pay off.
-Doer of jobs
The words stared at me from my inbox. He sent a few, but this was the first one I considered responding to. The thought of reaching out to him made my heart hammer in my chest. I thought for a long time about how to handle him. It's hard to give someone the right message when you don't know what the message is.
Dear Doer of Jobs,
I won ' t be posting any of the pictures or emails in public forum. You don't need to worry. You never sent me the goods anyway. My extracurriculars should be no cause for your concern. Thank you for the compliments. I'm not sure if I was kidding or not, maybe you can help convince me.
-Maybe hiring
I pressed send and went and made myself some toast. I didn't eat much that day and the nerves made me nauseous. The whole date with Tyler was a fiasco. I questioned my own sanity for wanting to talk to any man at this point. I halfway buttered a slice of whole wheat toast when I heard my email ping.
Maybe Hiring Page 2
