I’ve been subjected to constant harassment over an office project after the firm has fired two of its freelance writers for submitting bland-sounding articles. The work severely lacked imagination, and humour, and I don’t blame those two people since they were dealt unkindly by my boss who wore Prada to work.
So I turned to Facebook for help. And I unearthed an unexpected gem lurking in my chat box – Indianero. (For those who do not know Indianero, that was the guy who stood me up on our first date almost two years ago. FYI.)
We had decided to meet over lunch. This time I was in the company of male friends to make sure I wouldn’t look like an abandoned puppy should Indianero think of my invitation as an attempt to score a date with him. And who knows when he’d get pre-date jitters and decide again not to show up. Because THAT guy might just start thinking I was so darn into him and I wasn’t even tall or sexy enough for his collection.
That old piece of horseshit…who does he think he is? The mighty Thor?
So much for the hate. I think I am about to pop a nerve in my head. (Ha ha ha.)
Now, Indianero showed up LATE and was very apologetic. I missed those usual cocky remarks from this guy who was wired to think he was special. It was so unnatural.
We discussed the project, showed him the powerpoint, rattled him about my boss who wore Prada, and gave him the kit and a two-day deadline. Then we shook hands. He gave me one last look (I know I grew bulges in wrong places, like that would matter since I am NOT marrying him) and turned to the door.
Good. I will be able to sleep sound in the next two days.
