Life as a World War II submarine movie February 11, 2013
When you talk about a spy in the house of life, you can’t
help but mean people like the salesman, J, who is without a doubt attracted to
her, but may be scared he might blow it with his current girlfriend if he makes
a move.
I get the impression she’s attracted to him as well, at
least; she liked hanging out in his corner of the office when she still worked
there.
And now that she’s gone, he’s one of those she still
maintains contact with, including our former temporary boss, the owner,
outgoing writer, A, and, of course, the office gossip.
Yet from my brief conversation with our former temporary
boss last week, her contact with these people may be minimal, an occasional comment
on social media, or in the case of our former temporary boss, an occasional call
on the phone – just enough to keep him interested (the way the guy from the
shelter is still interested).
Our owner, however, most likely has the most contact physically,
but gauging from the conversation in Facebook last night, she and J talk pretty
frequently, if only by social media – although she clearly has some second
thoughts about what was said since she went back and edited out some of the
conversation later.
This reminded me of something she cautioned me about early
last year about posting remarks on her Facebook page.
“Other people have access,” she said, “including my family.”
Still, I get the impression she needs Facebook as a kind of
recruiting tool, and as a means to keep her legend of loyal followers to feel
as if they are still connected.
In one recent on-line conversation with a guy, she reverted
to the old Mae West line, “why don’t you come up and see me some time,” only to
edited this out later as well.
I may have gotten J in trouble with her because I asked him
to contact her about using some of the photos, she had taken that the owner
wanted me to retake for our website. This resulted in my getting banned again
from her Facebook account and losing even the alternative avenues to
communication such as through J or Barbara.
But I suspect she may maintain some link to my Facebook
account that I’m not aware of, if only to keep track of what I am posting.
Banning someone has the dubious benefit of preventing you
from accessing their pages, and I’m sure my posts make her nervous, even though
I haven’t posted anything about her since early fall.
Her seeing me posting messages to J and Barbara must have
caused her to go into a fit.
Or perhaps J told her, which would be more problematic,
since he is someone I have confided in over the last year – especially during
that period last summer when she or our former temporary boss appeared to be
trying to get me fired.
But she can’t afford to abandon her Facebook page, any more
than she can change her email or phone number. Too many connections ride on
these things.
Sometimes, I think we’re living in an old World War II submarine
movie. She suspects I’m out here somewhere in the deeps, but just can’t seem to
locate me precisely, leaving her to imagine what I might be up to, even when in
reality I’m not up to anything at all.
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