Another mistake or what? Aug. 29, 2012

 

Nothing could have gone more wrong today than my humiliating myself at the main office.

I arrived in about 9, leaving my car parked at the top of the hill to avoid the odious fines imposed by the town.

She and the owner arrived at the same time about fifteen minutes later, both in a jolly mood.

I kept my head down as they made their way passed my little niche on the second floor, feeling all the more like Harry Potter.

I did as much as the meeting to avoid looking at her so as not to feed into her fantasy of thinking I’m one of those who stare, aching for the meeting to end so I could get back to my desk and cover.

This was a short week, but she was praised at the meeting for a very good, if also a story strongly alluding to sex.

It was so good a story I asked if it could be included in my paper.

Unfortunately, when I approached her desk after the meeting, I couldn’t remember the name of it, only that it involved music.

I felt like a complete idiot and received in reply her icy stare.

I made my escape as quickly as possible without quite falling over my own feet, taking refuge in my little cupboard beneath the stairs.

Later, I managed to recover a little of my dignity and emerged to have a conversation with some of the other writers.

I heard her huff and puff from beyond her desk barrier in apparent disapproval. I remembered her once complaining about how many of the other writers loved me.

We took this conversation back down to my little hovel beneath the stairs, only to have her huffing and puffing as she passed on her way down. I couldn’t read her expression because of the wide sunglasses she wore. This was followed by somewhat dirty looks from the owner, who seemed to think we were wasting time. He paused long enough to tell me that one of my stories would have to be in her paper this week – since it was a short week after all.

His idea or hers?

I didn’t raise the question with him about her story being in mine. Why push my luck?

I felt like a crab by the end of the day, holed up, in a panic that I might have somehow made things worse for myself.

The owner intended to leave when she did, but got held up by some last-minute details, putting him in a foul mood by the time he did leave.


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