Wednesday, May 12, 2010

8. Suitable For Work

Good thing my office was closed that day because I went back to sleep and slept for five more hours. I woke up around 4 and heard my roommates shuffling around in the kitchen. I slipped into an old softball jersey and a pair of shorts and stepped out of my room.
"Sounds like you had fun last night!" Alexa said with a smirk on her face.
Ah, she must be referring to the standing ovations. My bad. Or, his good.
"Um, I'm going to need yall to look at this," I said as I opened my phone and clicked on my pictures. Oh my god, I didn't see it. I scrolled through all the pictures on my phone. It wasn't there.
"Damn it! I had the best picture of his incredible body and I couldn't wait to show yall!"
"Does he know you took a picture of him?" Lea asked from the couch.
"Yeah, and I'm sure he think I'm out of my god damn mind, but it's not like I'm ever going to see him again." I'd spent the past two days wondering when I was going to see him again and the next two days realizing I wasn't.
Jon called. I ignored it.
"Sorry I didn't make it to your Fourth of July party! How was it?" Suzanne asked when I got to work the next day. We were both editorial assistants at the health magazine we worked at in midtown.
"Have you had your coffee yet? This one is a doozy," I said as I rolled my computer chair from my cubicle to hers.
"Ooo! Do tell! Mac, get over here! Whitney has another story!" Mac, the art assistant, had just walked in. She set her purse down at her cubicle, rolled her eyes, and headed over to Suzanne's cube.
"What did you do this time, Whitney?" Mac asked, somewhat accusatory, but overall intrigued.
They were used to hearing my off-the-wall stories. Whether it's a date I went on with a sexy sociology professor who used to be Obama's special assistant, or the nanny job I applied for in the Upper East Side that required me to teach English to a one-and-a-half year old under a strict video surveillance system that was probably created by her three-year-old sister. New York City was a crazy place, and I liked to soak up the crazy.
"I didn't do anything. I met someone."
"You always meet someone! And how is it that they always have sweet-ass bodies? It's not fair!" Suzanne crossed her arms over her chest and gave me a faux-jealous glare. She'd been with her boyfriend for four years, so she enjoyed hearing about the excitement that was my seemingly permanent single life. And no, I don't always take topless pics of boys I meet. They just all happen to have at least one swimming suit pic tagged of them on Facebook. Yes boys, while you're looking for our bikini pics, we're looking for your swim-trunks pics. I love the summer.
"Hold that thought, Whitney," Mac said. "Dani, get over here."
Dani had just stepped out of her office. Lucky bitch had recently upgraded from a cube to a real office thanks to her recent promotion from editorial assistant to associate editor.
She joined our group and looked right at me.
"Well, he has an accent."
I had their attention.
It was Wednesday, and I was still on cloud nine from my wonderful weekend. I was browsing through looking for recent research about the benefits of eggs, or monounsaturated fatty acid, or tanins, or probably all of the above, when I saw that I had a new email in my Gmail tab. (Across my tabs on my browser were Gmail, Facebook, Gawker, and medicalnewstoday, in that order) I clicked over, expecting an annoying email from Facebook about a comment I'd already read five minutes ago.
It was an email from Cayden.

"Hey Whitney,
My first day back in work today and my motivation is pretty much non-existant. Really wish I didn't have to come back, haha. Our last day in NYC was ok, just wandered around and enjoying the views. Drew and Topher are fine about Sunday, so don't worry about that. I think I might have beaten the jet lag. I took some sleeping pills before our flight so slept the whole journey, then slept for 14hrs last night. This evening I'm updating my cv in preparation for quitting my current job!
Sent from my iPhone"

I read it again. And again. Monounsaturated fatty acids could wait.
The night on the roof I had told him to tell Drew and Topher I was sorry I hadn't brought a group of girls for them to mingle with at the bar. So that's what he was referring to. Wow, I really hadn't expected to hear from him again. Especially so soon. And to answer your question, no, he wasn't quitting his job to come move in with me and be my sex slave, unfortunately. We had talked about our career goals, and he said he wanted to be 100% happy in his career, and he didn't feel like he was at that point in his current position. I remember saying, "at least you're not writing about menopause and toe cramps." I was.
I hit 'reply.'

"Glad to hear you made it back OK! Wow, I don't think I could ever
sleep 14 hours. How in the world are you going to be able to sleep
tonight? So, you're really going to quit your job, eh? That's a pretty big
decision. But I hope it works out for you. Everyone deserves to love
what they do, even if we have to do a few 'rubbish' jobs before we get
there :)

PS-- I accidently deleted that picture. Will you send me one?"
It took a few days and several emails to convince him that the photo was a necessity to my life's existence. But finally, he caved. I now share with you, my favorite base runner. Enjoy.


  1. Topher and Drew are pretty cute. And they share Cayden's penchant for American girls :)


    question: the night of the base running, why were you wearing black panties with white shorts?

  3. Because a girl doesn't wear black panties unless she wants someone to see them :)

  4. My mouth actually dropped open upon seeing that picture. I know, its something that only happens in movies! It made me do it! You lucky girl!

    Loving the blog, just started reading it via Cosmo blog awards. I think its really sweet you got a picture of your first kiss :) Love your writing style too

    ps, I'm not a boy, I'm just commenting from my boyfriends gmail account as I don't have one

  5. Oh. My. Gawd.

    Also, love the 10 Thing I Hate About You reference. Props.