This afternoon, I am in a foul mood. My sky is dark, thunder is clapping, my eyes are glowing red – the works.
When you work in customer services, keeping in a good mood can be a real struggle, but today in particular, I feel like a bomb that’s ready to go boom.
After the morning I’ve had, I don’t have time for any more bullshit, that’s why I’m going to clear up all these messy loose ends today, and try and drag myself out of this slump.
Rita isn’t here this afternoon, she’s in meetings or something, which I’m grateful for, given my current mood. This means that work feels much more like it used to today, and that’s nice.
I’ve been thinking about how to call things off with Deano, and as much as I know he doesn’t give a shit about me, I want to do this with as little drama as possible. And as soon as possible, so with the boss not expected back in until tomorrow, I’ve asked Deano to come here so we can talk.
I know (unfortunately, first hand) that there are a multitude of ways for people to break up with other people. “It’s not you, it’s me” is a good one. It’s kind enough in that it reinforces that there is nothing wrong with the other person, while at the same time making it clear that it’s over and it’s final. Ghosting is another option, just going silent, cutting contact, nailing that fine line between missing that first message and faking your own death. Then there’s the friendzone. My friendzone is so populated they’re going to open up a Nando’s there. I joke, I strongly believe that there is no such thing as the friendzone, I think it’s just something that people say to try and make themselves feel better when someone has absolutely no romantic feelings for them. It is absolutely fine to just not fancy someone for whatever reason and, usually, if they’re not an absolute dick, you’ll want to be friends with them, because not being a dick is usually pretty good grounds for friendship. Sometimes we go off people, sometimes we don’t develop feelings for them for a while – women don’t meet people and file them away in boxes. Still, if people can make themselves feel better by claiming they’ve been put in a special zone for the under-appreciated, then that’s good for them. Usually, if I find someone so completely undateable, I don’t even want to be friends with them. If I have anything, it’s a “I’m going to pretend you died” zone.
There are so many good options for breaking it off with Deano, but when he finally arrives and sits down opposite me, none of the above feels like it’s going to do the trick. I need something he can’t dispute, something he can’t talk me out of, something solid, like…
‘I’m a lesbian,’ I blurt.
Deano nearly chokes on his cinnamon latte.
‘You’re a lesbian?’
‘I am,’ I tell him. ‘I realise this may come as a surprise…’
‘Yeah, I mean, not really. You talk and act a bit blokey sometimes, your best mate is a bloke –’
‘OK, thanks,’ I interrupt. ‘Well, there you go. I’m out the closet.’ I exhale with faux relief. ‘So I think it’s best we don’t see each other any more. I’ll always be wanting more – or, less? I don’t know. You’ve got a dick, that’s like the opposite of what I want.’
Oh God, I’m floundering. I just need to stop talking.
‘Wait,’ Deano starts, his brow furrowing with a thought – possibly his first this year. ‘Your phone wallpaper is a photo of Zac Efron with his shirt off.’
‘Body goals,’ I tell him. ‘I want to buff up.’
Deano laughs to himself.
‘I suppose it makes sense,’ he starts. ‘I’ve never met a girl who didn’t want to fuck me before. And the bigger girls are usually happy to take what they can get.’
‘Exactly,’ I agree, glad he’s catching on. ‘Wait, what?’
‘No offence,’ he insists. ‘It’s just that curvier girls like you are usually more grateful for the opportunity.’
‘To sleep with you?’
‘Exactly,’ he agrees. ‘But if you’re into birds, it makes sense.’
I pop the lid off my latte, dipping my finger in to test the milk. It’s not too hot, so I climb to my feet, sucking the coffee off my fingertip as I do so, before walking over to Deano.
‘The only thing that makes perfect sense…’ I pour my cup of coffee all over his crotch. ‘…is what an absolute dick you are.’
Deano jumps to his feet. Not because it’s hot, just because it’s wet and, I’d imagine, because he’s wearing a pair of ill-advised pale blue skinny jeans.
‘You fucking crazy bitch,’ he snaps at me before storming out, embarrassed.
I give myself a mental pat on the (apparently fat) back until I realise that everyone in the coffee shop is looking at me.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to apologise for that,’ I start. ‘Men be crazy, right?’
Hmm, that probably wasn’t the best way to explain what happened, but soon enough everyone gets back to their drinks and their lunch.
Well, this is what happens when I’m left on my own. Millsy is supposed to be on shift too, but he’s had to pop to the theatre for something for this bloody play that I am absolutely sick of hearing about.
I go back behind the counter and hover, waiting for a customer. Soon enough a couple of little old ladies wander in with their shopping bags and ask for two cups of tea. I tell them to take a seat and that I’ll bring them over for them. Just as I’ve finished putting everything on the tray, Millsy gets back.
‘Perfect timing,’ I tell him. ‘Can you take this to those two lovely ladies over there?’
‘Ooh, lovely ladies,’ he says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. ‘Oh, old ladies. No worries, they love me too.’
Millsy takes them their drinks and hangs around for a quick chat – he really does have the ability to charm any woman he wants.
‘So, anything eventful happen while I was out?’ he asks. ‘Sorry for abandoning you, but I’ve got a job tonight and I needed to get measured up for my pants.’
‘Nah, nothing much,’ I tell him. ‘Although I did break up with Deano.’
‘Oh shit, how did he take it?’
‘Erm, he basically called me fat.’
‘I told you he was a cock,’ my friend reminds me, with a shake of his head. ‘And you’re not fat.’
‘I know. And I know,’ I say with a smile. ‘I guess I can see why he was pissed off though. Kind of. I’ve made such a mess of things.’
My friend grabs me a triple chocolate muffin.
‘Eat that, fatty, and tell me what’s up. It’s quiet now, we can talk. You haven’t seemed yourself today. And you still haven’t explained that hair.’
‘The hair was a mistake, end of story. Anyway, I thought of the perfect way to break up Nick and Heather. I managed to convince her that he was thinking about proposing, but that he was too scared to do it and that he liked bold women who made the first move.’
‘She didn’t fall for it?’ he asks.
‘Oh, no, she did. And now they’re engaged. That pretty much sums the situation up.’
‘What the fuck?! He said yes?’
‘Yep,’ I reply. ‘And it kind of sounds like they’re expecting me to move out. And I can’t even try and be happy for him because before this happened, Heather made it pretty clear that his money was a major factor in their relationship.’
‘She sounds like a bad person,’ he concludes.
‘And that’s coming from you,’ I tell him with a smile.
‘You need distracting,’ he insists. ‘We need another man for this job tonight, why don’t you do it? It’s easy money, it will distract you.’
‘You need another man?’ I laugh. ‘Will a woman do?’
‘No,’ he says with a grin. ‘But we’ll make it work.’