Disillusion Meets Delight (19 page)

He wasn’t the kind of guy that liked to get involved with drama and chaos.  In fact, he avoided it like the plague.  So why, after many, many months away from his drama queen ex-girlfriend, did he find himself caught in the middle of it all again?

He was now involved in a romantic scandal that concerned one of his first friends here in Portland.  It was the scandal that could potentially jeopardize his friendship as well.  Granted, he and Jenna didn’t do much but run together, but they formed a bond, a trust.  If Jenna did not think highly of Ian, it was doubtful she would want him to meet her best friend.  And then there was her best friend- the infamous Natalie Everett. 

She was the eye of the storm.  Everything that troubled Ian was centered on Natalie.  But it wasn’t her fault.  It wasn’t her fault that Jenna’s creep of a boyfriend was cheating on her.  It wasn’t her fault that she knew about it and had a difficult time figuring out how to break the news.  It also wasn’t her fault that he was developing feelings for her, even though Jake Miles already staked his claim.  Staked his claim?  She wasn’t Oklahoma prairie land!  And, if Ian learned anything with the few encounters with her, she was quite aware that she wasn’t Oklahoma prairie land as well.   

As Ian sat slumped in his recliner, flicking through Sunday morning infomercials and garden shows, he heard Maggie get up and toil in the kitchen.

“You want coffee Ian?”  She asked, shouting over the bean grinder. 

“Yeah, that’d be great.”  He replies, shouting back in equal measure. 

When did 13 year olds start drinking coffee?  He thought to himself.  When he was 13 it was Ovaltine that was the cold morning beverage, not triple Grande mochas or pasta bowl sized coffees.  No wonder we are an age of hyperactivity and Ritalin.  Oh well.  As long as the only Irish Cream that was going in her java was found in the dairy aisle, it would be alright.  Being a coffee lover himself, he understood Maggie’s taste for it.

“So, my dear brother, how did the night go with the lovely video store girl?  I was so mad when I fell asleep.  Jenna is way cool by the way.  Oh, but back to the girl.  So, what happened??”  She asked, gripping her coffee mug with anticipation. 

“I am a schmuck.”  Ian replies, staring at the little garden man giving advice to the NWCN anchor. 

“Hmm, I knew that something was wrong.  You’ve never found Northwest Cable News this interesting.  So, talk to me brother and start from the beginning.  What happened when you went to pick her up?” 

“She opened the door and my heart stopped.  I felt a jolt.  I can’t explain it.”  Ian stopped, embarrassed at sounding like a romance novel.

“Were you guys able to talk at all?  How was it in the car?  Did you have uncomfortable silence?”  Maggie asked as though she herself had experienced that very awkwardness on her past dates.

“No, not really.  We had quite a lot that we had to learn about each other because I was supposed to be pretending to be her boyfriend or something.  Then her mother called and wanted to talk to me so I spent the rest of the drive talking to her.”  As Ian explains the scenario, Maggie practically spits out her coffee.

“You talked to her mom?!  And you were
pretending
to be her boyfriend?  That’s crazy!  How was it?  Did you like her mom?  Did people believe that you guys were together?”  It was clear that Maggie found this quite entertaining.

“Her mother is British and although she has that properness to her, she’s actually really fun.  Yeah, I think everyone accepted our story.  Her mother’s friends seemed to like me, especially when I was left there with all of them after Natalie decided to eavesdrop on…oh, never mind.  It’s a long story.”  Ian was able to talk to his little sister about many things but he didn’t feel that getting into the whole mess was a good idea. 

“I don’t get it Ian.  Why are you a schmuck then?  It sounds to me like everything was perfect.”  Maggie says, pouring another cup of coffee.

“Last cup Maggie.  I just kind of said some hurtful things in my typical tone that pretty much ruined all of the positive aspects of the evening.” 

“Oh.  Maybe you can make it up to her.  Do you know where she works?”  Maggie asks in a curious tone.

“She’s a supervisor somewhere, I think.  She was talking about claims or something.  I don’t know.  See, I am a schmuck.  I can’t even remember where she works!”  Ian exclaims, putting the velvet sofa pillow over his head.

“It’s okay Ian.  We’ll get it sorted out.  Everything will be just fine.”  Maggie mumbles to herself, sipping her coffee.       

For the second day in a row, Ian forfeited his running ritual to the great avoidance.  The longer he mulled over his feelings, the more he understood Natalie’s dilemma. It was extraordinarily difficult to imagine seeing Jenna and acting as though everything was perfectly normal. 

‘Perfectly normal’ was an interesting term, Ian thought to himself.  Did it even really exist?  He could sit all day and philosophize what normal was and was not.  As for perfect, that is simply a term for those who are in denial of what is still to come.  Putting all bitterness and disillusion aside he knew that avoiding Jenna was considerably easier than avoiding his other predicament.

“Hey buddy, you look like you partied all weekend.  Some hot chick making you lose a little shut-eye?”  Jake grins as they walk into the conference room. 

“Not quite.  What’s this meeting about anyway?”  Ian asks trying to divert Jake’s interest to something that doesn’t involve the past weekend.

“I don’t know.  You know how Jones is.  If it gives him an opportunity to blow smoke up someone’s ass, he’ll arrange it.”  Jakes says as they walk into the room giving Mr. Jones the nod greeting.   

The meeting, as Jake presumed was for the benefit of those far more important than the two of them.  Throughout the event, Ian took diligent notes that from a distance would appear thorough and professional.  Those who could peer over his shoulder however, would find that they were simply lists of things he would rather be doing if he were irresponsible and not focused on making the almighty buck.  Perhaps capitalism
was
the root of all evil.  Oh well.  He’d learn to live with it.    

“So O’Reilly, how long have you been seeing that little rosebud from Saturday?  I see you haven’t followed Miles in his quest for every woman in Portland!”  Ian’s attempt to avoid his burly boss proved impossible and now quite complicating.  Luckily, Jake’s need to defend himself saved Ian from any further explanations.

“I will have you know that I am dating a lovely woman who has yet to show me any of her nether regions.”  Jake replies indignantly.

“Is that so Miles?  So, what’s her name?”  Mr. Jones asks suspiciously as though wondering if Jake actually purchased his girlfriend from the local Erotica Superstore. 

“Her name is Natalie and as we speak, she is probably receiving the flowers that I ordered for her this morning.”  Jake ordered her flowers??  As Mr. Jones looks at Ian, amazingly remembering that his date was also a Natalie, a sense of panic forms on Ian’s face. 

“Mr. Jones, the Austin branch is on the phone for you.  It sounds important.”  The assistant whisks him away and Ian is saved for the moment.

“You bought her flowers?”  Ian asks exasperated. 

“Uh, yeah.  What’s wrong with that?  I thought you would approve if anyone would.”  Jake responds, confused.

“Oh, well, yeah I am impressed.  So, did you have them sent to her work or home?” 

“Work.  It looks good for her to show off to all of her work friends.”  Jake grins and Ian realizes that things just got a lot worse for him.

“So, how do you know where she works?”  Ian asks and cannot believe that he has been outdone by the biggest womanizer in Portland.

“I remembered from our date.  We talked about it when we were waiting for the movie to start.”  Jake replies matter of fact.  “But forget about me.  What was Jones talking about?  Did you blow me off for a chick Saturday night?” 

“Oh, sorry man.”  Ian is at a loss for words. 

“Don’t worry about it.  Did you get laid at least?”  And finally, the real Jake returns. 

“No, it wasn’t like that.  It was more of a favor kind of date.”  Ian replies.

“Oh so she was a woofer.  No worries.  We’ll find you someone.  Maybe next weekend.  I’m taking Natalie out on Friday but we can go out on Saturday.”

“We’ll see.  I might have something going on that day.” 

“What, another favor date?  Sure, you keep telling yourself that buddy.  We’ll figure something out later on in the week.  I promised to get you laid and I don’t go back on a promise.”  Jake does a light jab to the arm and heads to his office. 

“I am such a schmuck.”  Ian mumbles out loud and retreats to his desk. 

It’s only 10:30 in the morning and I’m already begging for 5:00 to come.  That’s never a good sign at work is it?  I don’t think I have ever been so dissatisfied with my career.  Is this a career or is it a job?  What’s the difference?  Personally, I think that people call their occupation a career when it’s actually something they like or aren’t embarrassed to answer the dreadful, ‘so what do you do for a living?’ question.  That would make what I do a job without a doubt.      

Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful to have an income.  There are thousands of hard working Americans; right here in Oregon that don’t even have the opportunity to hate their job.  Nevertheless, my job doesn’t interest me the slightest bit and the thought of being here in ten years time makes me want to cry.  Actually, having to come back here tomorrow makes me want to cry, but oh well.

I still have to survive my Monday meeting with Magda who will sit and pretend to listen to what I have to say and then proceed to do nothing with my input. 

“I simply don’t understand why none of the staff will come to me with their concerns.  They are always running up to that HR woman.  Don’t they know about my open door policy?”  Magda complained to me while waving her pointy polished fingers through the air.  Okay they weren’t pointy but I wouldn’t eat any apples she offers if you know what’s good for you.    

“Magda, don’t take this the wrong way, but they are intimidated by you.  Perhaps it would help if you spoke with them more one on one.”  I reply.   

“Really?  You think they are intimidated?  By me?”  Although she is trying so very hard to express concern, I can see that the idea of her peasant staff members’ intimidation pleases her to the fullest. “But I stop by and talk to them all the time, Natalie.”  She says with a correcting tone.

“Yes, that’s true.  Perhaps you could say more than a ‘hi’ while walking on to the next cubicle.  Actually sit with them, see what they do all day.  Or schedule a meeting so they can voice their concerns with you.”  Have I mentioned my pure dislike for this woman?  Yes?  Well, of course I have.  Between Magda Rubin-Allen, Jan Wellington and sometimes Ian, my hate quota is filling with haste. 

“Well, maybe we should schedule a special meeting after work.  I’ll order in takeout from that teriyaki place down the street.  They can talk then.”  Oh sure, ordering takeout from that crappy little hole in the wall restaurant, making the staff stay even later after work and then putting their neck out to be chopped off is a fabulous idea. 

“Personally, I don’t see what all the fuss is about anyway.  Don’t these people know how lucky they are to even have jobs?  We have a stack of applicants just waiting to be replied to.”  Yes, letting the staff know they are a dime a dozen will definitely improve morale and productivity. 

“Magda, they are unhappy with the consulting firm that we have brought in for one.  The girl you have working with them is condescending and doesn’t listen to anyone. How is she going to restructure a department she knows nothing about?”  I am probably overstepping my bounds at this point but I really hate the snotty little just out of college, thinks she knows everything consultant assigned to “fix” us. 

“Well we’re paying them half a million dollars to do just that. I would not assume Natalie that she doesn’t know anything.  It is her job to come and do what she is doing.  I advise that you and the staff listen to her advice and do what she suggests.  Failure is not an option.  Understand?”  I was sure that a chilly breeze floated through the air in what seemed like an airtight office when she spoke those words.