"Listening to the Olympics"
"Alice SWEEEEETIEEEEEEEEE I'm back!"
Slowly I picked my head up from my desk to find Tiffany standing in the middle of the office.
"Back already I see", not that I didn't miss one of my dear friends in the whole wide world and that I wasn't thrilled to see her. But there she was... so obvious she had the time of her life in Jamaica with Patrick and by the looks of her long strides into the office Patrick fucked a new woman out of her, quite literaly. I hate when that happens! God why can't that be me! Why God, Why! Nothings worse than watching a good girlfriend that's been fucked so good she skips through the halls at work like Snow White singing to the woodland creatures through the enchanted forest so that all the other thirsty bitches in the office are green with envy(but I digress). "It felt like forever you were gone, how was Jamaica guuurl!"
"I know, I missed you too. Look I brought you back this" she reached into her purse and handed me a T-shirt and a pen that had a palm tree on it and "
JAMAICA" over a Jamaican flag. REALY! No fucking REALY, you get like a weeks supplies of unlimited dicking anytime at your disposal and I get a pen and a damn T-shirt. It's the thought that counts right. Had that thought lead to a pack of jumbo hotdogs I'd be a little more appreciative(but I digress).
"Thanks so much Tiffany."
"Your welcome"
"So how was it there, on the beach?"
She drops her bags to the floor and leaps onto her desk, "It was fucking amazing Alice! I mean from the moment we got on the plane he couldn't keep his hands off me! It was like with every touch was something new I could barely hardly breathe..." as she continued
Tiffany: Spoken Medicore Porn I couldn't help but feel sex for me, was like being part of the Olympics not everyone gets to play... but in my case you get to listen. "Alice I mean he was realy something else, I don't know what got into him... So how has everything been here?"
"Oh you know the usual as usual Mr.Gramm reminding about some unforseen deadline I just happen to miss."
"Asshole", there's my gurl, slowly returning back to the darkside. That fucking in Jamaica will wear off in no time and she'll be back to being just as miserable as me. There's nothing like having a good girlfriend that hates your job as much as you do. "Where's that Clinton guy from photography you had your eye on?"
Okay so Clinton's this guy from photography on the second floor, he's fucking delicous to say the least, you know the silent hipster guy you never know what he's thinking either he's realy stoned or a potential serial killer, you know that kinda guy always walking around with a camera and his ipod looking at things like an apple itself is God or some social injustice for apples everywhere. Well a week ago we bumped into each other in the cafeteria. Who would've known he was a double latte no foam kinda guy, he was standing behind me heard my order and "like that" our conversation started from there. And then at the one minute and twenty four second mark some supermodel bitch with big titts and one of those brazilian butt lifts from the fifth floor cuts me off with the whole "Hey Clinton!" bullshit, and then there I go disappearing again to cafateria obscurity with nothing but a latte and some good masturbation material for after work.
"So have you two talked since last time in the cafeteria?"
"No, I keep missing him. I guess he's probably working on something and we're just missing each other."
"That sucks. Well we can just hang out in the cafeteria one day until we catch the guy." Tiffany stands from her desk and walks over to mine. I can feel what's about to happen. "Alice you were so happy when you came up here and told me about Clinton that morning", she feels sorry for me. "I mean it Alice you were so happy, it's time for you to get out there and realy pursue a relationship. I mean he told you his name didn't he? I want to help and I want to hear you come into the office after a week in Jamaica telling me how much you fucked and how much you liked it", that Tiffany sure has a way with words. She puts her hand over mine like I was just diagnosed with some incurable disease... It's not like I haven't been putting myself out there because I have, it's just I don't know. It's just not happening for me, I don't know why, I mean I'm average pretty, descent body, I'm no J.Lo but I'm certainly not a Rosie'O Donnel. Maybe personality needs work, I can be shy at times. I don't know I feel like it's always my hair, or my clothes or my make up, or the way I just put things together. All my friends say "Alice you look fine, you look great", but I never believe them. But I know what it is, it's the Ugly Disease. I worked at Beauty INC. Cosmetics before I was an editor CiTy, nothing but pretty girls working there everywhere you turn like the Playboy mansion or Hooters. And I was one of them, one of the pretty girls at Beauty INC. Cosmetics. Only thing was for a room full of bad bitches we were all miserable, depressed, and completely paranoid the way we looked. For every mirror in that place there was at least two paranoid crazy beezies that work there that were staring at themsels checking that thier hair hadn't moved, or that thier makeup hadn't smudged, or that thier shirt hadn't slipped too high above thier titts. And a woman I had at a register one day said very concretely "every girl that works here has the Ugly Disease", where your realy pretty but just paranoid your somethings ugly. That's my curse, that's what I can't get right, the reason I've been listening to the Olympics and not playing.
