The return of the shoes… and WDW

Photo: Akif Hakan Celebi

You may remember that I’ve had my shoes kept ransom by another blogger named WontDieWondering. Here is what happened later, after we kept silent for a week:

Wont Die Wondering: Hi. Hope you ready and packed for your mum’s wedding. Please send your postal address and will get the shoes back been another tough week – cheers
Beautiful but Grumpy: Hi. Yes, all packed and ready. Don’t worry about the shoes. No need to post them, just drop them off at the reception when you can. Thanks
WDW: The thought of dropping off shoes in a plastic bag is less than appealing…
BbG: When did you become fashion conscious?
WDW: When I met you – was picturing the conversation with security… I have plastic bag for the bbg lady….. how goes work?
BbG: What are we doing here texting each other – we’ve said goodbye!!!
WDW: you said goodbye… is that what you want?
BbG: Of course not. But you didn’t leave me any other option.
WDW: How did you work that out?
BbG: I computed it – I said what it was I wanted from you, you said what you wanted from me. It didn’t match.
WDW: Sometimes unmatched is really cool…like starsky and hutch (i am sure there better examples)
BbG: It’s a film! Anything can happen in the film…
WDW: Just like life unless you try to match things…..
BbG: I agree… but am still unclear as to what you actually want/expect from me. If it’s not dating then what is it? A pen friend??
WDW: Dating is so formalised it was good as friend with benefits which may have developed into something more serious….

So, I allowed him to bring my shoes back the following Sunday.
He came looking tanned, healthy and incredibly handsome. To my relief, the shoes looked untouched.
After he introduced himself to my new flatmate Helen, we all enjoyed sharing a late lunch (only mildly disturbed by WDW trying to grab my knee under the table, and placing his naked feet on top of mine).
For the rest of the afternoon we hung around in my bedroom (without Helen…), where among other things, we talked about our issue with communication (WDW complained that I never called him on the phone. Which is true.)

Occasionally I tried to convince him to let me slip a banana in his arse, and he in turn tried to stick his big toe in my mouth.
I’ve got a feeling we will meet again...

A broken heart. Literally.

Photo: Akif Hakan Celebi

It is Friday, 3pm. I’m at work, browsing guitars on internet when e-mail from Jay, my boss, arrives:

Boss: what are you doing now? quick glass? Arrgh, he must have noticed I’m on internet. Shit.
BbG: Glass??
Boss: G&T ?
BbG: Now?
Boss: YEP, MANAGEMENT PRIVILEGE, JUST A QUICK ONE IN THE FINE LINE, LETS GO, OFFSITE MEETING ABOUT SEMI-ANNUAL OBJECTIVES

So I pick up my handbag and tell the team I’m off to a meeting.

Cool air conditioning welcomes us. The place is not as busy as usual, probably because of the time of the day. There are mostly older men in elegant suits scattered around, chatting quietly in small groups. A TV screen is discreetly positioned on one of the walls. Football is on – it’s South Africa v. Mexico. I think about WontDieWondering and I’m wondering if he’s watching the game. Probably not. Most of the normal people are working.

At the bar, Boss asks me what I would like to drink, but before I have a chance to even open my mouth he gives his order to the barman – a bottle of champagne. I try to protest and come up with excuses that we can’t possibly finish it, and that I still have work to do. But he states shortly that I shouldn’t worry about anything. Ok, he’s the boss so I try to relax, but insist on staying at the bar instead of being squashed at too smug looking sofas.

My boss faces me with a grin ‘Cheers to the top performer! You did really well in the last 6 months’ and raises his glass. I can feel my face beaming with pride and excitement ‘Oh really? Thanks Jay. And thanks for all the opportunities I’ve been given’. I take a sip of ice cold and sharp tasting champagne, and laugh at his bad jokes. Today they don’t sound that bad actually.

‘It’s time to start reaping synergies from the merger’ says Boss turning serious and fixing his glare somewhere above and beyond my head. ‘I want my management team to work closely with each other to achieve that. You and Matthew will need to collaborate’ he breaks for a large sip of champagne.

‘Of course. You can count on me. It’s all forgotten from my perspective’. I try to stress the last sentence with a strong (and slightly exaggerated) hand movement for added effect.

‘Well, there is one thing I need to tell you’ Boss looks down and polishes invisible stain on his gold cufflink ‘Matthew had a heart monitor installed this morning. He’s been experiencing severe pains recently’. I can’t hide my shock but my boss continues, looking straight into my eyes, ‘He tried to blame it on you but I wouldn’t have it, plus I don’t want HR being involved. So please be careful around him. Literally. His monitor will beep if his heart is on edge.’

I feel a sharp, single twinge at my forehead. How could this turn so wrong?

I look around as if in search of help, then sigh loudly and think that this at last explains a glimpse of satisfaction on Matthew’s face this morning, when he passed me with his chin raised unnaturally high.