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Swirling the cold drink in my hand, staring down at the condensation dripping
from the sides, I wonder what the hell I am doing here. An upstanding, gainfully employed thirty-something woman does not go to a bar on a Tuesday afternoon and drown her sorrows. No, that person would be out visiting friends, attending meetings, you know keeping her “it” from stinking. However, this sister is not doing that. Nope, I am here on a Tuesday afternoon in BJ’s trying to see how many drinks I have to down to make the world start spinning. Not that it is not spinning on its own axis, but I want to test the theory and see if I can do it all by myself. It’s 3.15 in the afternoon and I am on my third vodka tonic. Nice, huh? I am thinking maybe two more and I will have enough data to test my theory and the world will indeed start spinning all because of me.
When I woke up this morning, dressed, walked the dog and hurried to work I did not have the insight that I would be planted at BJ’s before 7.30 pm. Normally, I meet up with friends for a quick drink and bite of food before going home to work on the work that always follows me although I put an average of 10 ½ hours a day at work. Today is a new day. I am here at BJ’s it’s now 3.20 and I am feeling the rush that only can be found in a bottle of Belvedere Vodka. Like I said, my morning did not start out with this stop on my task list.
When we get to that age where reflection is a common as gas and arthritis, we want to recall a life of vacations, love, family and friends, a rewarding job and all that goes along with the American way. No one wants to have memories of regret, you know the coulda, woulda, shoulda’s that many experience. After today I can say that my dream of telling Michael Mondine what he could kiss, how I wanted it to be kissed and the exact place in hell I wanted him to go will not fall into a regret category. Since August 2000 when I joined the consulting firm of Mathews, Mondine & Spheres I have had this insatiable urge to grab Mondine by the neck, sink my nails into his flesh and have him beg for mercy. Of course those hallucinations occurred in a foreshadowing a la Ally McBeal moment, but it was a consistent and present thought almost every day of my life with MM&S. After five years of smiling, grunting and completely suppressing my character I stood up in the middle of our staff meeting and belted out words that I only heard my Mom say on her worst days. The shocked pale faces of my co-workers were enough to keep my engine roaring. During my tenure at MM&S I have always been the quintessential African-American female employee. A smile on my face. Always a kind word. Eager to help any and all employees to complete their work because after all we love our company. However, today, January 18, 2005, it hit the fan and I made no attempt to stop the spinning. Which leads me to BJ’s and my vodka tonic. I probably should order food to counteract the effects of the alcohol, but when you are reaching for that low of lows you do not want to do anything to stop the flow. Glancing around I see that I am not the only one who took Tuesday as a day of rest as I see some of the regulars from the 8 o’clock rush. That leads me to think are they really getting off work when I walk in at eight or have they been here all day nursing a drink? Moreover, are they having the same thought about me? God, please don’t let them think I am a lush. Everyone has a bad day and after the words I threw at Mondine I should never worry about what someone says about me because they will probably be right. With that thought I throw back the rest of my vodka tonic and search for my waitress, Sheliah. Common sense just might be kicking, or the growl my stomach, either way food is what I am craving. I flag Sheliah down to order my grilled salmon salad and my other life starts ringing. Knowing it can only be Cass on the line I send up a quick prayer, take a deep breath and put on the voice I use everyday at MM&S.
“Hello, this is Bet”
“Don’t ‘hello, this is Bet’ me! What on earth, on God’s green earth possessed you to show your natural, pale, mole covered ass today? And I want a good answer.”
“How do you know what my butt looks like?” I reply.
“Don’t answer a question with a question. And I know because I have witnessed you prance around your apartment without a tinge of shame.
Now, what in the hell happened?”
“Honestly, Cass, I have no idea. I guess I just got sick and tired. Mondine has rubbed me, literally, the wrong way since I started and the thought of him doing it one more day; one more time was too much. I have been stressed from the new accounts thrown at me since John left and add on the family muck I have to contend with everyday…I am just tired.”
“Bet, I understand. Truly, I understand. But honey, you know that is not the way to handle that man. Let’s not forget his name IS our company. I wish you would have talked with me about your issues.”
“I know.”
“But that’s the least of your worries.”
Hesitant to know what could be worse than cursing out your boss I finally ask, “What else could go wrong?”
“Girl, I think you turned the fire up on Mondine! When you left his eyes never left the door. And not the type of look that says I am firing her ASAP. No, this was a look of pure unadulterated lust.
It was like you poured three gallons of fuel on an already lit fire!” she laughed.
Is she laughing? I know she is not laughing. “I know you are not laughing?! This is not funny. Nowhere in the world would this be funny. You are telling me that this man, and I use that term very loosely, is more turned on now than before I told him to kiss my ass? Please tell me that is not what you are saying.”
“I would not lie. At least not about this. That man is still after you. He cornered me after the meeting asking more questions about you. You would think he would get the hint after all the times you have turned him down. Evidently he likes rejection or is it he likes the look of you leaving him. Regardless, he wants me to arrange a meeting.”
“A meeting? You mean a date. And you being my tightest girl since high school said?” I threw in the tight girl remark in hopes of forcing the truth out. Cass had a tendency to withhold when she knew I was pissed. Like now. I heard a sharp intake of air.
“Ok… I did not arrange a meeting. I did not arrange a date. I did NOT arrange anything. I know you did not try me like that? Tight girl? What I told Mondine is that you obviously are not interested in him and have reminded him of this fact on numerous of occasions. I also pointed out the clause in our contracts outlawing relationships between employees, and the most obvious reason – he is your boss! I suggested he try a dating service. And I cannot believe you tried me!!!!” All of this was said with intake of breath I heard. She had to have had one of the best set of lungs in the world. Especially if she was miffed with you, like she is with me now.
“Thanks girl, I knew you had my back.”
“Anytime. Where are you?”
“At BJ’s testing a new theory.”
“Huh? Never mind I am on the way.”
“Alright.”
I settled back in my chair and begin eating the salad Sheliah brought while I was talking with Cass. It seems to be helping with the effects of the alcohol. Feels like I can go another three rounds or so. By the time Cass gets here I will be on drink number seven; the girl has no sense of time. Although the bar is only 10 minutes from the office I am guaranteed it will take her about 45 minutes to get here. Who knows how she and I have remained close through the years, me an always earlier, takes 20 minutes to get myself together and Cass – an hour and a half to put on t-shirt and jeans. Yet here we are ten years later, still friends. Seeing us together is witnessing night and day at the same time. Cass is tall, slim and works out seven days a week and trust me it shows, if I could have her calves! With a body like hers you would think she would flaunt it, but not Ms. Cass, preppy black girl in the flesh. I on the other hand, short – on a good day I am 5’6, and that’s with my three inch BCBG’s. I work out when size four starts fitting like a size one. And I flaunt it. Not in the video vixen way, but I will show off the genetics I was so blessed with and I will express myself with my wardrobe. One look at me and you know what mood I am without doubt.
Excuse the formatting...Probably won't bother many, but I am an English graduate...that crap was ingrained in me so I have issues with formatting properly. Trying to overcome.
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