Time To Kiss Off The Kisser?
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| Kiss Off? |
I thought that I would like the dating scene, but I really didn't. I was going to try and avoid it in the future. I didn't like the hype, the awkward conversation, the pretending to like somebody that got on your nerves. It was just a game. The only good part was having a nice meal and maybe dancing. But guys just seemed to think that if you went out with them that you liked them, or you owed them something or that they were irresistible. I didn't even like guys asking me out because I wasn't interested in them for the most part. People were always trying to fix me up with somebody, and a lot of times, they didn't want to take no for an answer. The answer to any problems that I might have had was not another guy. I actually almost stopped dating for years after France, and I stopped dating. But that was down the road, not now.
It was hard working that day. The machinery in the back room that we used was very loud. It wasn't helping the headache. Hopefully, after I ate lunch, I would feel better. I don't know why but I always crave salty stuff when I have a hangover. I was going to get a BLT and fries from the diner for lunch; that should help. Lunch was all I could focus on. Whenever I struck a key, I envisioned food; I didn't know if I could make it to lunch.
France came in to make copies. I didn't even know he had come in. He said something but the thought of food obviously distracted me. He came back and bent down in my face and scared the crap out of me. "What's wrong with you?" You don't look well." Gee, thanks, if only he knew the culprit of my condition. I told him I was sick to my stomach and had a headache. Truth. He asked me if I had eaten, and I said no, but I would get something at lunch. He said he was sorry that I felt bad, and then he left. A while later, he returned to the room with a cold Dr. Pepper, peanut butter crackers, and "green pills." Green pills were the approved fix it all pill handed out by Ma Bell. The cures were endless. They also were loaded with caffeine, which we didn't know at the time. "Aw how
sweet, thank you, France." Now I felt a little guilty. "Eat those crackers and take the pills and I will check on you later." I told him I would as he was walking out the door. It behooved me to see that we had an audience watching us. He had broken the "cool it" rule for the office. I just looked at them and gave them a super big smile, even though it hurt my head to do it. Seriously, they did not want to push any of my buttons on my hangover day.
After I took the pills and ate the crackers, I felt a million percent better. I don't know if it was one or the other that had worked the magic, but I went into the storeroom and pulled out a bottle of green pills to keep at my desk. Then I went back and got some to use at home. They, the company, handed them out like candy, and if it meant taking them when I was sick and being able to show up for work, they wouldn't care that I had a stash at home. All they cared about was that you were there. And I would be.
France came back later after lunch and asked how I felt. (He did this at my desk.) I told him I was fine and had been able to eat a nice salty, fattening lunch. I was making weird faces at him like, why are you talking to me at my desk. I even mouthed the words, and it didn't seem to motivate him to leave my desk. Why was he starting to be so bold? I didn't like that. Our relationship was not public simply because of the nosey people that I worked with. We would have to talk. I called him at his desk a few minutes later and quietly told him not to do that again. He kind of sighed and said, "Well, okay." I asked him to call me after I got home. "Okay."
I felt great that afternoon. I was dancing and singing in the back room. Chicago was on my mind for some reason. Mary and I were in the back together, and we always were trying to make the best of a bad situation. The machines that transmitted the ads that we keypunched were loud. Really loud and rhythmic, so when they were running, I would dance to the beat to crack Mary up. Of course, she had to make sure that nobody watched me from the main part of the office. This was way before the introduction of cameras in the workplace. It made our day go faster and broke the monotony of the work we were doing. And it was just funny.
Finally, time to leave and go home. Another day in the life of a person wanting to transfer to another job down. Every day completed was another day closer to leaving. I just felt like I was being smothered by boredom and frustrated at having to work in such a dead-end job. I was smart and creative, and young. I didn't belong in this office. And neither did Mary or Kent. We had to get out before we turned into "one of them."
France called me that night, and I reinforced the "keep it cool" rule. He said it was hard to do. I told him to just not talk to me at all if he couldn't do it on the sly. I explained that my life was private, and I planned to keep it that way. I told him I didn't want any altercations or rumors passed around about us because I was planning on getting out of there as soon as possible. I told him that was my number one priority, getting out of there. He was like, well, how will I see you? Geez, I wasn't planning on leaving the country. I would have to sleep on this, but I thought I was probably going to have to stop seeing him for a while.
How was I going to tell him? I didn't like doing things like that. I didn't want to hurt him. If I did it wrong, he could get angry and make it difficult for me at work. Geez, why didn't I think of that before? Dummy! I would have to be very careful.
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