Slam

By Kathy

Today, I was fired.

In a four-walled corner office.

Door shut.

‘We’re sorry but we need to let you go’.

Slam.

------------------------------------------------------------


Fired.

Me.

From a call-centre.

If this was a relationship, a guy I was only sleeping with because I was bored just dumped me.

Me.

Dumped.

By a guy who wears Simpson’s t-shirts tucked into his slacks.

Packing up my stuff, I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration, rub my eyes and sigh.

Why my number? I don’t want to know the answer. What is the point… so I can move on to my next customer service vocational calling and improve on things? No. This is it. I’m hanging up now.

Paul comes over, he’s heard the news.

Already?

He looks nice since he cut his hair, all those curls hovering over a stark bald patch didn’t do him any favours. I’d love to tell him that.

How was your date?

I click my pen at the same time in exaggerated anticipation.

Eh…

He pauses forever. I stop clicking.

…Interesting. He smiles.

I look him right in the eyes trying to figure out what that means. They look very blue today, two translucent Smarties fixed around his retina. I’d love to tell him that too.

Did you like her?

Not so much in a romantic way. She’s sort of …

Weird? I say leaning forward onto the desk. He takes a breath and hesitates.

Stop eeking it out, you’re torturing me, what is it?

She’s …

Now I’m leaning as far as I can across the desk without actually climbing onto it.


… a Hare Krishna. At least she used to be. She lived in a temple in Berlin for 2 years worshipping a statue. But she said she quit because it became too time-consuming.

He said the last part in a bizarre clipped hybrid German accent. Das Stazi.

His Smarties eyes search the room for logic. I take him by the arms and make him look at me, before I let go and laugh.

What is with you and the weirdo’s? Where do you find them?

It’s called keeping an open-mind. He says, shaking his head at me in disapproval.

Yes, and why do you keep doing that. Look at the trouble it causes you. I’m not sure I even want to hear another story where you take a girl out and twenty minutes later you want to go home cause she’s got OCD, or she’s eats off her knife or she’s a white witch.

Oh, it’s not that bad.

Well then why are you single?

You’re single too.

Yes but I’m single by choice, I have standards. You on the other hand, you’re anyone’s.

For that I get a dig in the shoulder.

Ow. Leave me alone… I bruise easy.

Remembering my clouding sadness, I pout.

Are you ok? He put his arm around me and I flung my bag on my shoulder.

Yeh I’ll be fine. I’m just…

Tell me, what is it, you’re torturing me.

Very funny. I’m just disappointed. I mean a trained monkey could do this. But evidently, not me.

Oh come on, you’re at least as smart as a trained monkey.

Screw you.

Would you like to dance?

I certainly would.

I took his hand and he spun me out and back in again.

Let’s go.

He opened the door that leads to the lifts and let me pass first.

Wait. He put his arm around my waist this time.

Don’t forget to say goodbye to all your dreams. He waves his hand over the sparsely populated cubicles.

This is really tough on me. You’re so insensitive. I turn my head to his.

Just then, there’s a long moment. A scene from a movie. Something so uncontrived it doesn’t seem real.

You have very pretty eyes. He says.

So do you.

------------------------------------------------------------

Today, I was kissed.

In a four-person lift.

Door shut.

‘I’m sorry, I wish I’d done this before’.

Slam.


Document
Slam

Created: Feb 24, 2010

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