Correspondence

So Slim got the job. I wasn't surprised, really. The moment he was introduced he made a good impression, and I assume he must have been a magnificent man to interview because he was hired after a single one (my brother had three, and I had two). He was hired yesterday, on the spot, basically.

After Slim left, Christian, who, in the end, hadn't been the one to interview him (rather the man in charge of the electronics section), looked at me and asked, lightly, "So, is he your boyfriend?"

I laughed, ignoring the curious looks from the other employees ―they're all super-friendly, but they have a gift for staring a person down― and said, "Oh, no, we're just really good friends."

"Then why are your cheeks so red?"

I answered the truth: "Because it's stifling hot in here."

At this, all the other employees agreed, and I was off the hook. I'd promised Slim fondly (in front of them, no less) that I would meet him on MSN later that night, after my shift.

What I didn't expect was for my shift to finish freaking late because of the Back to School rush, which made us stay in the store until ungodly hours. On top of that, my mother picked my brother and I up, and agreed to take Lord Llama downtown for a concert at the TNT nightclub, because one of the bands playing were personal acquaintances. So I came home at quarter to midnight.

Obviously, Slim was no longer online. He started work early this morning, and would want the sleep.

Feeling terrible, I sent him an email:

From: CM
To: Slim
Subject: Sorry!

I finished freaking late tonight; I didn't expect it. Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow at work. My shift is 12h-21h, so we'll probably overlap. Hope you enjoy your first few hours without me. :p

But really, I'm sorry, we finished at quarter to eleven. It was stupid. I'd have textedyou but you don't have a working cell phone plan. So blah. I'm not so sorry after all.

No, seriously, you need a good mobile plan, because this simply isn't livable. No-t liva-ble.


He didn't reply that night, obviously, but I hoped he'd at least get the message before going to work.

Apparently not. I came in this morning and he was already in his uniform, answering a customer's questions about some piece of hardware. I could tell he was WAY more interested in this than in men's fashion like back at Sears, so I was happy. I didn't bug him, until we came face to face.

And he reproached, "Hey, I waited for you last night. But you never came!"

So I defended myself: "I finished at eleven and got home forty five minutes later! I sent an email of apology, okay?"

He seemed doubtful. I assured him it was true. He relented.

And we went back to our usual banter throughout the day, delighting, apparently, the customers and employees.

"You're a terrible employee," he suddenly called out to me, a short time before his shift was over, "and as the newest manager, I am firing you!"

I turned a cynical eye on him, and he leaned on the shelf to gaze down at me with a smirk.

"I was just promoted."

"You still don't know where the duo-tangs are."

"Err..."

"Aisle 1, and you're lame."

"Whatever, I'm like, a six-hours-old employee! But as manager, I order you to pack your stuff and leave."

"No."

"No?"

"No." I repeat.

"I'll punch you."

"Like hell. I'll knife you."

"No you won't."

"But I could!" I say, showing him my tiny Xacto retractable knife, the one I use to open boxes. He pretended to be terrified and to leave. This went on until he left, and by then I just had fun with the other employees. I was glad, because there was one of them I don't like, and he wasn't there today.

You see, there's this employee I'll call Zack, who's an even more recent addition to the Staples team than I am. That's roughly a week. He's tall, black, and ―unlike the other black men employed by the store, whom are totally chill to hang out with― a truly scary weirdo. I suspect he's shown up at work stone more than once; and he seems to find my body absolutely touch-worthy.

If you see what I mean.

Now, I don't mind the occasional friendly beat on the arm, or the shoulder pat, or whatnot.

But please. This guy takes 'accidental brushing up' to a whole new level. He also pinches me teasingly so hard that I once bruised, and ruffles my hair so that I have to fix it every fifteen minutes.

"I should pretend to be gay," Slim had said, annoyed by the description of the man's antics, "and give him a taste of his own medicine."

"What, you'd rub up against him and all?" I'd asked, amused.

Slim had laughed. "Yeah, it'd probably teach him a lesson. It's that or―"

At this, we both sing-songed at the same time: "We kill him!" causing us to start laughing cheerfully, as we do when we realise the awkwardness of guessing the end of each other's sentences.

Anyhow. I came home after my early-ending shift, and, though it was only ten, did not see Slim online. I had told him to be on until midnight at least, to give me a chance, but he wasn't.

Although he HAD replied to my email.

From: Slim
To: CM
Subject: Re: Sorry!

YOU BITCH FROM HELL, IT'S NOW THAT YOU TELL ME, GOD-FUCKING-DAMMIT, DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA TO WHICH EXTENT I PUT SUBLIME EFFORTS IN WAITING FOR YOU!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!! I BANISH YOU FROM MY CIRCLE OF FRIENDS ARRARARARARRARGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

...Never will you be able to take me seriously.

bisouS xox


And by the way, 'bisou' means 'kiss'. And adding an 's' in French indicates the plural.

Yeah, I know, I nearly suffered cardiac arrest, considering that, every time before, I'd been the one to initiate kisses, and he always mocked them, adding a ridiculous 'MWAH' to them, as though he wasn't sure how to take them.

I was stunned.

So I replied:

From: CM
To: Slim
Subject: Re:Re: Sorry!

You're a dirty bitch yourself to not be online TONIGHT, YOU EVIL SON-OF-A-BITCH. I SPEND A FULL ASSHOLISH DAY (BECAUSE YOU WERE LESS THAN FORTY METRES AWAY AT WORK ALL THE TIME DURING MOST OF MY SHIFT), WHICH, FOR ONCE, FINISHES AT A REASONABLE HOUR, AND YOU'RE NOT EVEN THERE. AH WELL, FUCK, WE'LL SEE WHICH OF US MAKES THE MOST EFFORTS IN THIS RELATIONSHIP (???!!!)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You're right. I don't take either of us seriously.

I work noon to five tomorrow. You're invited to supper at our place too, if you want. See you then.


And we'll see, I guess?

Love,
CM

P.S. Those kissing lips are not a mistake, by the way. I totally put that in. Hah!