Diary of a Working Girl (15 page)

Best,

Lane

Now, before you think me the absolute smoothest woman in the world, you must remember that A) I am a writer, and therefore, more than able in the words department; B) I have a job to do here, and therefore, must put any sort of neurosis or self-doubt that might normally accompany male endeavors to the back burner; and C) I am now part of this new, nonbeauty world, where my confidence has skyrocketed overnight to a level that can even stand up to the sort garnered from the best haircut, an outfit from Gucci, or probably even plastic surgery.

Day Two and I already have a date. A date! That is, I have a date with a very cute guy—and really, I guess he’s not all that smug—

and it happened so quickly, and he has really nice lips. And I bet he’s a great kisser. Sometimes you can look at someone’s lips like that and just KNOW. And when that happens you just have to tell someone. I need to tell someone. It is never any fun to have a date without the opportunity to gloat about the date and dissect the possibilities of the date from every angle with your friends. So I sign on to my instant messenger to contact Chris.

Footnote: Exclamation points cannot under any circumstances be omitted from electronic correspondence. They are the very cor-nerstone of the entire communication framework, along with 21430_ch01.qxd 1/26/04 10:05 AM Page 110

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funny faces and the need to act much bolder, funnier, and wiser than you actually are.

Lame2001: Hey baby!

Photoguyforguys: How is the working woman today?

Lame2001: Daahling, I couldn’t be better.

Photoguyforguys: So are you gonna tell me why or am I going to have to guess L?

Lame2001: Well, it’s a lot more fun if you’d just guess.

Photoguyforguys: For the love of God!

Lame2001: Patience is a virtue, dear . . .

Photoguyforguys: One I’ve never seen you exhibit . . .

Lame2001: What about that time I was on a waiting list for TWO

WEEKS for that Laundry dress? Huh? And then I had to wait to get it hemmed after that!

Photoguyforguys:This is becoming tiresome. Would you just get on with it already?

Lame2001: I thought you’d never ask. Well, I have a date!

Photoguyforguys: (Warning: Cheesy saying ahead.) You go, girl! Who with?

Lame2001: He’s in accounting. And he has a very nice butt! His name is Seth.

Photoguyforguys: Boring name AND boring job. How Lane, I mean, um, lame.

Lame2001:You’re just jealous!

Photoguyforguys:You got me.

Lame2001: I knew it.You are sooooo transparent.

Photoguyforguys: And you’re not, Miss Boy-Crazy Stacy!

Lame2001:You have a point. Still, am very proud of my rapid success.

Photoguyforguys: Well, you are very qualified for the position . . .

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Lame2001: Let’s hope so! Toodles! And, oh, photo 26—exact look-alike!

Photoguyforguys: 26! That one was mine! I won it fair and square!

Let me at him.

Lame2001: No can do.

I am just closing out that instant message window, when another one pops up from Tiffanybabeoliscious. This is so much fun! Now I have coworkers, I have more than one IM pal. Joanne never uses it—she thinks it is the downfall of society.

Tiffanybabeoliscious: I heard you’ve got a date with Seth!

Lame2001:That was very quick!

Tiffanybabeoliscious: Good news travels fast! Want the scoop?

Lame2001: Sure . . .

Tiffanybabeoliscious: Well, Seth used to date lots of the girls around here, until he started going out with Evelyn Grainger in accounts payable. But he dumped her bitchy ass last month. She’s going to be sooooo jealous when she finds out!

Lame2001: Ooh!!!!!! Intrigue!

Tiffanybabeoliscious:Totally! Lucky girl! He’s sooooooo cute!

Now, can things get any better than this? I am now like an office celebrity. People will be whispering and looking at me. I am already the subject of gossip! This is so exciting. Evelyn Grainger—

watch out! There’s a new girl in town! And that’s me!

Initial excitement out of the way though, I attempt to calm myself.

While I am trying out a new life and a new way of meeting men, I will resist the urge to daydream about Seth every second 21430_ch01.qxd 1/26/04 10:05 AM Page 112

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until Thursday. I will not write his name inside hearts on Post-it notes. I will not picture him naked. I will not squander away hours imagining how he kisses.

But don’t I sort of have to? I mean this is no regular date. This is the first in what I hope will be a series of tests to determine whether Seth is my M&M. This is serious business. I have to throw myself into this head-on. Give it my all.

It’s my job, after all.

Which is why I am keeping a diary to record these very things!

Of course! As I said, it’s my job.

Day Two: You know, it’s funny, when every single man you encounter has to be thought of on such a serious level, there is a lot of pressure. Do I throw myself into thinking about him or don’t I? Do I or don’t I? Hmmmm . . . The best way to answer such a question would be to enlist the advice of a friend.

But my friends would not provide the answer I am looking for. Which is to definitely begin thinking about Seth, Seth, nothing but Seth from now until Thursday.

Without friends who can provide the proper answer, I will have to refer to my oldest friend in the world: my checklist book, to make sure I haven’t missed any important points.

Checklist # 127 Seth

1. Reads
NYTimes
: ®

Notes: Requires additional research

2. Has job that will allow for romantic trips to exotic locales; always insists we fly first class, feeding each other sorbet with a tiny silver spoon: ®

Notes: Must ask Tiffany about this (but not too soon, as don’t 21430_ch01.qxd 1/26/04 10:05 AM Page 113

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want to appear after money, which is not important part of this checklist item).

3. Puts passion above common sense/practicality: ˛

Notes: Did help with copier, even though obviously has fear of retiring as “copy guy,” also used phrase “knight in shining armor.”

Didn’t mind asking me out even with ex-girlfriend still on premises (must add “possible conspiracy” as additional checklist item).

4. Is British (depending on nature of remainder of checklist, this can, on occasion, a be fulfilled with valid British heritage documented on family tree, but British accent is most desirable): ®

Notes: Although does not exhibit verbal signs of United Kingdom origin, did (as mentioned above) refer to “knights,”

which is surely a British sort of reference.

5. Makes me get That Feeling: ˛

Notes: Did enjoy rear view; if memory serves correct, also experienced three heart jumps (1) when he did sexy eye-flick thing; (2) when I received very direct e-mail regarding date; (3) when I was trying not to write his name inside hearts on Post-it notes or picture him naked.

6. Knows how to be direct, (Richard Gere,
Pretty Woman):
˛

Notes: See # 5.2 above.

7. Has roses waiting for me when I get home (even when I am working at home, he always finds a way): ˛ Notes: Really should wait on this item, since no chance for proof as of yet (and is a two-part question, technically requiring me to be done with this assignment and back home to prove), but am getting extremely great feelings about this and have just decided after reading article about it, never to ignore woman’s intuition.

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8. I am unable to pass a Victoria’s Secret without dashing inside to find some new lacy, sexy thing with all sorts of straps that go God-knows-where to surprise him with, and when I do, he never says something as ridiculous as, “You must get dressed now, we are meeting my parents in ten minutes”: ˛

Notes: See #7 above, re: woman’s intuition.

9. He is so beautiful, maybe not to everyone, but to me, that I wake up in the middle of the night and spend hours just staring at the angle of his jawline, the arch of his brow: ®

Notes: Although beautiful without a doubt, have learned that beauty can be fleeting and therefore will refrain from checking off until at least one month. Maybe one week.

Definitely not until tomorrow night.

10. If we ever do argue, it is always with bitter rage, arms flailing , and tears burning in front of a fountain in Central Park or by the tree in Rockefeller Center, or somewhere equally cinematic. But, then, without fail, we make amends—always meeting in the middle of the route between his home and mine (as we both have the urge for reconciliation at the same moment); and come together in the most passionate lovemaking both of us have ever experienced (once we’ve gotten inside, of course), and thank God that we have found each other. After, we spend the evening laughing uncontrollably at the littlest things, like the way he says parents with the same A sound as in apple and coming to unique realizations about things—like how amazing it is that people now only drink bottled water, when before they’d never thought twice about drinking from a tap: ®

Notes: Again, probably best to wait on this one until actual argument ensues; judging from past experiences, this means at least until second date.

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11. Witty statements are always on the tip of his tongue: ˛

Notes: So far, so good. But with today’s myriad sources for pickup artistry (e.g. Maxim, Stuff, Men’s Health), men can fizzle out on the wit front after initial encounter: This item subject to change.

12. He teaches me things I never even knew I had to learn: ˛

Notes: Reference copier incident.

Friends till the end, my checklist and I part ways, one of us slipped into my attaché case, the other back to my journal.

With all of that possibility, how could anything go wrong?

But haven’t things gone horrifyingly wrong before with equally promising checklists? Then the question of the hour (and I really haven’t much longer to figure out the answer) is: How do you recognize your M&M?

The next couple of moments are occupied with a vacillation between doubts that any Prince Charmings actually exist, and doubts about my ability to recognize him should he actually surface. Each side of the equation has its horrors.

If there is no such thing as Prince Charming, then whom will I wind up with? A not-smart-enough, not-funny-enough, but sweet and thoughtful guy, who I’m not really in love with, but eventually stay with so long that there’s no turning back? Or if I don’t settle, will I become the proverbial bird-woman (I know it’s really cats, but I much prefer birds), doomed to a long life of loneliness and excrement cleanup? And, on the other hand, if he does reveal himself to me, what if I am too 21430_ch01.qxd 1/26/04 10:05 AM Page 116

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stupid to recognize him? What if he’s drunk and he says something inappropriate, like “Nice rack,” and I turn my head and present him with the palm of my hand and, defeated, he rejoins his friends and never speaks to me again? What if this has already happened? This is a horrifying thought.

And the thing about horrifying thoughts—after you have just broken up with a perfectly decent man, who is smart, has a great job, supported your career, thought of sweet things to present you with on dates and holidays, and has told you on more than one occasion that he is never happier than when he is with you—is that they lead to more horrifying thoughts.

What exactly was wrong with James? All of my friends had nothing but rave reviews. They thought him witty, funny, a perfect match for me.

I think back and try to figure out where it went sour. I’d always fancied myself so fortunate when I’d see him with his family—

they dote on him so! And when we were with his friends, I couldn’t help thinking that since they were so wonderful, it could only support the fact that he, too, was wonderful. The few times we went for romantic dinners, I’d look around the room and feel lucky to be with him (former checklist item; now proven to be mislead-ing). Or was it that I was lucky to be with someone?

I am about to hang up my pen when I have another insightful thought about the men of the Traveler’s Building that does wonders to lift my spirits:

They are everywhere (eating, running, walking, typing, talking). I was right about that part at least. It is truly amazing. All you have to do is jam a paper in the copier, try balancing three coffees on a tray, drop a pen, and they come 21430_ch01.qxd 1/26/04 10:05 AM Page 117

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running. And as you know from my earlier rantings and ravings, this is not the norm for me. I am not normally the woman like in those Impulse commercials. There are no men I’ve ever met before who suddenly bring me flowers.

But now that the initial question has been answered, now that I’ve proven that placing yourself in a setting like this can increase the possibility of meeting men and scoring dates, does this mean out of the tons of men I see that there will be one who will be The One for me? I guess the next frightening question is: Does increasing the odds increase the likelihood that you will meet that one soul mate?

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S i x

Mr. Right Now

During a very inspired moment on Wednesday (mood buoyed by a trip to the downstairs shop, during which my telephone number was requested by three—yes, three—different men, one of whom carried my bag all the way to the entrance to my floor), after a long day of typing up memos, faxes, and letters, and shoving time in between to pitch an occasional story idea or two, answer an e-mail, check my voice mail at home, check out the men around me, I attack my
Diary of a Working Girl:

I think that every single girl should have the option to visit a financial institution at least once per week. I have taken this on as my anthem, replacing my old (pathetic, and so never before revealed) one: That every single girl should be able to have a camera tune into them on a Sunday when they are trying to 21430_ch01.qxd 1/26/04 10:05 AM Page 119