and the fact I got to listen to audio books while keyboarding really gave me nothing to complain about. It suited me for now.
My U-shaped cubicle was decorated with photographs of my family and of me with Lexie and Roxanna throughout the years, and tacked amongst all the photographs were sketches and colored pencil drawings I’d done over my breaks. Splashes of color everywhere, some merely silly doodles, while others were more disciplined, like the colored pencil drawing of the vase full of flowers that had sat on my supervisor’s desk for two weeks before they’d wilted and been thrown into the trash. Surrounding myself with images was a great distraction when my eyes swam from looking too long at the computer monitor.
My cubicle was as cozy as a gray corporate cubicle could be.
The morning after my almost one-night-stand with Matt, I trudged down my team’s aisle in the data entry department, a large latte in hand, exhausted. I would’ve called in sick, but I had to save my vacation time for a trip to Colorado with Lexie and Roxanna. We’d been planning the trip for months now.
I sat down at my desk, logged onto the computer, and checked my email. There were three new messages in my inbox.
The one from Richard, I promptly shit-canned without reading. The one from my supervisor I opened. Based on my last week’s evaluation, I needed to increase my claim output in order to meet goal. Doable, if I cut out the internet surfing. I scribbled “291” on a pink sticky note and stuck it to the top right-hand corner of my monitor.
I continued on to the third email; it was from Roxanna: Did you tell Richard you weren’t interested in making babies?
Scrunching my nose up, I tapped the keys quickly: You are not going to believe this. He dumped me INSIDE OF MARIO’S ITALY. And then he TOOK OFF!
A second later, Roxanna’s golden tan face appeared over the gray partition separating our side-by-side cubicles, her amber eyes wide. I nodded once. Roxanna disappeared from view.
Roxanna wrote back: Oh my God. You were dumped by a man-child who lives in his parents’ basement.
I stuck my tongue out at the computer screen. After a pause, I wrote back: It’s okay, though. I’ll tell you about the rest of the night on our lunch break. Something interesting happened.
Roxanna responded: Interesting? Hmm.
I puckered my lips. Hmm meant she didn’t believe me. I hadn’t exactly been a ball of excitement lately, almost to the point of being predictable. I couldn’t wait to tell her the real story. Hopefully, it’d be enough to send her into shocked silence—a first. I looked at the clock display in the corner of the computer screen. It would be a long four hours until lunch before I could spill the story.
Flipping on my MP3 player, my thoughts were with Matt; his kiss, his arms around me, the smell of his cologne. I was lost in Incubus, lost in my memories—or maybe they were more like daydreams—when I caught a whiff of pepper and pine.
I almost gagged. There was only one person I knew who wore that scent of cologne and I wanted nothing to do with him.
I pretended Richard wasn’t standing behind me. Then he coughed. So I pretended I didn’t hear him—I had my earbuds in, after all. It seemed like a good cover. For all he knew, I was rocking out to Slayer on max volume. Then he cleared his throat.
Fearful he’d draw unwanted attention, I turned around on a sigh.
His coy smile was enigmatic. Maybe he’d come by to repay me for his meal. If that was the case, I was interested in what he had to say. The receipt from Mario’s Italy was stuffed somewhere inside my purse. I could even circle his portion with a red pen and highlight in yellow—I was helpful like that.
“Hey, you,” he said and gave me a wink.
I nearly fell out of my chair.
Though I should have been furious he’d had the nerve to come to my desk after what he’d pulled last night, I was mostly just astounded. Shocked to speechlessness. His
My U-shaped cubicle was decorated with photographs of my family and of me with Lexie and Roxanna throughout the years, and tacked amongst all the photographs were sketches and colored pencil drawings I’d done over my breaks. Splashes of color everywhere, some merely silly doodles, while others were more disciplined, like the colored pencil drawing of the vase full of flowers that had sat on my supervisor’s desk for two weeks before they’d wilted and been thrown into the trash. Surrounding myself with images was a great distraction when my eyes swam from looking too long at the computer monitor.
My cubicle was as cozy as a gray corporate cubicle could be.
The morning after my almost one-night-stand with Matt, I trudged down my team’s aisle in the data entry department, a large latte in hand, exhausted. I would’ve called in sick, but I had to save my vacation time for a trip to Colorado with Lexie and Roxanna. We’d been planning the trip for months now.
I sat down at my desk, logged onto the computer, and checked my email. There were three new messages in my inbox.
The one from Richard, I promptly shit-canned without reading. The one from my supervisor I opened. Based on my last week’s evaluation, I needed to increase my claim output in order to meet goal. Doable, if I cut out the internet surfing. I scribbled “291” on a pink sticky note and stuck it to the top right-hand corner of my monitor.
I continued on to the third email; it was from Roxanna: Did you tell Richard you weren’t interested in making babies?
Scrunching my nose up, I tapped the keys quickly: You are not going to believe this. He dumped me INSIDE OF MARIO’S ITALY. And then he TOOK OFF!
A second later, Roxanna’s golden tan face appeared over the gray partition separating our side-by-side cubicles, her amber eyes wide. I nodded once. Roxanna disappeared from view.
Roxanna wrote back: Oh my God. You were dumped by a man-child who lives in his parents’ basement.
I stuck my tongue out at the computer screen. After a pause, I wrote back: It’s okay, though. I’ll tell you about the rest of the night on our lunch break. Something interesting happened.
Roxanna responded: Interesting? Hmm.
I puckered my lips. Hmm meant she didn’t believe me. I hadn’t exactly been a ball of excitement lately, almost to the point of being predictable. I couldn’t wait to tell her the real story. Hopefully, it’d be enough to send her into shocked silence—a first. I looked at the clock display in the corner of the computer screen. It would be a long four hours until lunch before I could spill the story.
Flipping on my MP3 player, my thoughts were with Matt; his kiss, his arms around me, the smell of his cologne. I was lost in Incubus, lost in my memories—or maybe they were more like daydreams—when I caught a whiff of pepper and pine.
I almost gagged. There was only one person I knew who wore that scent of cologne and I wanted nothing to do with him.
I pretended Richard wasn’t standing behind me. Then he coughed. So I pretended I didn’t hear him—I had my earbuds in, after all. It seemed like a good cover. For all he knew, I was rocking out to Slayer on max volume. Then he cleared his throat.
Fearful he’d draw unwanted attention, I turned around on a sigh.
His coy smile was enigmatic. Maybe he’d come by to repay me for his meal. If that was the case, I was interested in what he had to say. The receipt from Mario’s Italy was stuffed somewhere inside my purse. I could even circle his portion with a red pen and highlight in yellow—I was helpful like that.
“Hey, you,” he said and gave me a wink.
I nearly fell out of my chair.
Though I should have been furious he’d had the nerve to come to my desk after what he’d pulled last night, I was mostly just astounded. Shocked to speechlessness. His
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