The girl in the copy room

The One’s reaction to the Ruler (read my last column if you don’t understand why a person would have any reaction to a ruler) was okay. And I hate the word okay. Because I use it a lot. It’s mediocre. I hate all things mediocre which is why I hate myself. But I digress. Sorry.

She thought it was kinky but she said she wasn’t into spanking. Which is a lie. She’ll love it. She just doesn’t know it yet. I sound psychotic. I am - Just look at how many full stops I’ve used in two paragraphs. That’s when I know something’s not right.

I’m feeling disjointed because I want to forget about The One, I want to be over her. I’m speaking on behalf of myself here: not Fluffy. Fluffy will never be over The One. The ruler was Fluffy’s idea, not mine. But still I’m so disappointed with her reaction. It’s obvious that she’s probably getting serious with her new “Friend” (that’s what she told me when they met: “She’s just a friend”). But on the other hand, that ruler cost me ₤6 and when I go home for my holiday, Fluffy is going to make sure I use it.

You think I’m a fool, don’t you? You are correct. Hankering after an ex that’s clearly not interested in me with wooden rulers and sexual threats is foolish. But here’s something for you – I’m dating. Yup. I like to keep my options open. It’s like a safety net. I like to have my cake but not necessarily eat it. Maybe use it as a safety net. Wow, imagine a safety net made out of chocolate cake.

I’ll get back to the dating part in a bit (at this rate, in my next column) but first I want to digress (“Digress”, unlike “okay”, is one of my favourite words which I use and do often too) to a topic way more boring than dating.

I found a new job. Remember I was selling frappacino powder to restaurants? Well my new job pays way more and is way more embarrassing. I now work in Vat reclaim. Zzzzz. I won’t tell you about it because I’m not entirely sure I know myself. Something about foreign currencies and getting businesses their money back. Okay, you’re nodding off, I’m sorry.

What does foreign Vat have to do with my dating life, you ask. Well I’ll tell you – I get to wear suits. Which doesn’t have much to do with my dating life except for the fact that I feel more confident in the mornings stepping out of my flat in a collared shirt which I’m sure will have some sort of effect on my dating life…

It’s also important that you know these little details in my life because they bring context to stories like the one I’m about to tell you…

I was at a client the other day. It was the day before I got the okay reaction from The One. I was doing my foreign Vat audit (Don’t fall asleep!!) which involves me having to do a lot of photocopying of invoices.

So I’m standing at the machine and if you’ve ever stood at a photocopy machine for a long time, you’ll know that the monotonous sound and recurring green light has the same effect as dope – brain shut-down, trance-like contemplation, short term memory loss (“Have I already photocopied this invoice or am I holding it because I’m finished?”)

It was right in the middle of my brain shut-down, when a gorgeous blonde woman in a tight corporate skirt came into the printing room and said, “You picked a bad day to come”.

I looked up, dazed. “Oh, I did? Why?”

“The coffee machine is broken,” she answered while scratching her nose.

I mistook her nose scratching for a polite signal that I had something like snot or dry skin dangling from mine. Obviously photocopy machines can cause severe paranoia as well. Amazing. So I grabbed my nose and ungracefully tried to wipe imaginary whatever from it.

She smiled at me awkwardly after I gestured (by pointing my arms to the machine) that she could use it, seeing as though she had so little to do and I had half the Amazon’s worth of paper still to go.

“I don’t drink coffee,” I said to her back.

By the way, I don’t have to tell you anymore that this is all Fluffy’s work, do I? By now you should be able to discern when it’s me and when it’s Fluffy reacting to situations.

She turned and smiled awkwardly again, “Oh okay then, it’s no problem for you then, is it?” And carried on with her copying. 

Silence. Except for the droning sound of the machine.

“I like tea,” I said to her back, again. (Do you want to kill me? I know. So do I.)

“Ah well you don’t need a machine for that. Lucky you.”

I let the lady escape my ineptness gracefully by exchanging “bye byes” and “enjoy the rest of your day”.

The point of this story is that I genuinely think this babe was coming on to me. I had noticed her watching me each time I went to the copy room. But then, after I opened my mouth, she was as desperate to get out of that copy room as a frantic pigeon would have been. I don’t blame her. But in my defence, I was fucking stoned, man!

After this incident and the coffee girl incident (read previous column), I have come to a conclusion, which will be very important and relevant to dating (which was my point about nine paragraphs ago, and I’ll get to it soon in my next column).
Conclusion: I have the looks to start negotiations, but when it comes to selling the product, I can’t close the damn deal.

The actual conclusion: I’m screwed. 

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Read more about Astrid and Fluffy.