My first job out of college was not the glamorous job I had dreamed of. I wasn’t an editor of some small but up-and-coming publishing house. I wasn’t writing articles for The New Yorker.
I was a receptionist.
When you’re a receptionist, people seem to forget that you need your personal space.
People also seem think that you’re their personal assistant just because you happen to answer the phone.
Julie breathed in slowly to help calm her nerves. By the time she exhaled, the ache was back again. Closing her eyes and trying to ignore the sick feeling in her stomach, she blinked back tears and silently prayed for healing.
“You can cry Julie, let it all out!”
She had promised herself that she wouldn’t cry but a sob betrayed her. A throbbing pain rested in her temple. Julie wondered how she got to this point. She thought about the situation and what caused it, and tried to blame herself but it was hard to convince herself that refusing to be the other woman was a wrong resolution. She pressed her knuckles against her lips and watched tears trickle down her hand. Someone held up tissue but she didn’t reach for it.
“Please just calm down”.
She looked at her friends and managed a smile through her tears. How many times had she held their hands and comforted them when they cried tears of hurt and disappointment, how many times had she uttered ‘everything is going to be fine’ and ‘maybe it wasn’t the right time’?…countless times! Who would have thought that she, the one who had it all figured out, who always knew the right things to say and the right choices to make, would be the one whose tears stung her eyes, whose head ached, who ended up alone, hurt and heartbroken.
It’s weird how heartbreak literally makes the heart ache.
I have had my share of horrible splits. The ‘it wasn’t you, it was me’, the ‘we are in a weird place right no’, the ‘I’m confused and blah blah blah’. By the time I turned twenty, I had mastered the skill required for the perfect break-up, I was well versed with the techniques, can read and interpret the signals…I had become a guru.
There are some break-ups that are meant to be done over the phone: the kind where there’s a possibility of violence, where the party doing the break-up is overly sensitive or where you just don’t give a shit.
I remember a few years ago, when I needed…yes needed to break-up with an ex who was an overbearing, insecure, control freak. He was too clingy and two months into the relationship, I knew I needed to find a quick exit. He would call every second asking where I was, listen in on my phone conversations, go through my bags, insist I seek his permission to breathe…! He had to go.
I picked my phone and dialled his number for the last time. His first question was ‘hey girl, where u at?’
I rolled my eyes and ignored the question. ‘I need to end this’.
I didn’t offer any explanation, did not apologise, didn’t give a shit. I just wanted him out of my life. He called back to demand an explanation but since he didn’t give me a minute to speak, I placed the phone on the table and walked away. No point listening to him rant.
Then there is the option of dumping him with the cold shoulder. This is effective if the reason is vain. If you have been following my earlier posts, you would remember that dating boys that I dwarf is not an option. I met this dude when I was in my freshman year. He was nice and seemed interesting. Weird thing is every time I saw him or he saw me, either of us was always seated. Maybe I totally didn’t pay attention or maybe his charm was super effective…I can’t quite explain. All I know is that one evening, he was supposed to take me to a party. I had donned my 4.5′ stilettos and walked towards him. He was standing by the car, holding my door.
I noticed that as approached, he got shorter and shorter. As I got closer, just a feet away from him, I realised I could see the centre of his head! ‘Noooo!’ I heard myself groan.
He had to go. How do you tell a dude you are no longer interested in him because he was little…small…short…whatever! Well I couldn’t, so I didn’t return his calls and avoided him like a plague. To this day, I bet he doesn’t know why I broke up with him. (Geez, I hope he doesn’t read this post)
I tend to be a drama queen from time to time, so you can understand why the confrontational break-up is my favourite! If he cheats on you, lies to you, steals from you, is an ungrateful cow, a scrub, an NFA (No Future Ambition), or is just downright nasty and has you wondering what the hell you saw in him in the first place, then the best way to dump his ass is the classic confrontational way.
If u want to go down this route, make sure he is not an animal, that you are willing to control your temper and you get to say the last word…this last point is vital and can be sealed with a precise retreat.
Don’t let him get a word out, bombard him with all you can and then get up, pay for the drink (if you are at a cafe) push back the chair gently, offer a sarcastic smile and walk away. Don’t forget to sway them hips as you go!
If you find these methods a little cheesy, then check out the girl who broke up with her boyfriend on Radio. The chic went on air and dedicated the song ‘Irreplaceable’ by beyonce to the unsuspecting dude.
Viola!
You just got a lesson on how to give a bad break-up.
Yours truly…
I ran as fast as my stilettos will let me and took the stairs, two at a time. As I reached the door to the conference room, I paused to catch my breath.
I was already late for the meeting and I knew for a fact that my boss would be wearing a frown by now. You see, it wasn’t entirely my fault that I was late…I had to touch up my makeup before coming and if not for someone’s moment of the-bathroom-is-mine-do-not-even-think-of-knocking, I would have made it to the meeting earlier!
Don’t get me wrong, I’m a serious and ambitious person. I just think success can be achieved with glamour.
Shifting the files I was carrying, I reached for the door handle and turned it.
‘Ah finally, she made it!’
I ignored the sarcasm and waited to be introduced.
‘Please meet our the Analyst who will be handling this project, Miss ….’
I turned to the client and smiled. Quickly dropping my files, I took his extended hand; ‘Nice to meet you’.
I noticed another man standing beside him and I looked up at him, extended my hand and smiled. He was handsome indeed with remarkably soft hands!
Taking my seat, I passed around the files and started the briefing. Staring at his face was a huge distraction so I diverted my gaze to the bottled water on the conference table.
I could feel his eyes on me as I spoke; it felt like he was staring at my lips. I kept turning my head, as I explained to the handsome stranger and his colleague why they should do business with us.
When I finished, my boss took over the negotiation.
As I nodded away, my eyes wandered to him but then caught his. His lips curved into a smile and my heart raced. Averting my gaze quickly, I said to myself ‘This is work, get serious! Stop staring at your drop-dead gorgeous prospective squeeze…sorry I mean prospective client’.
‘…we would appreciate if an agreement is reached on this’, I heard my boss finish and nodded my last agreement even though I hadn’t heard half of what he’d said.
Suddenly, the man got up from his seat and came around to mine. He reached for my hands and gently pulled me up and I followed his move like a zombie. I started to speak but he covered my mouth with his.
His lips were gentle and soft as it tenderly caressed mine, everything and everyone around us melted away. I put my arms around him as he drew me closer. His kisses had a certain kind of prowess that took control of me. He kissed my neck as I let out an ‘ooh!’ I could stay in his arms forever.
I heard someone call my name. I opened my eyes to see that I was still sitting and he was also sitting on his seat. I touched my lips and found that my gloss was still intact. My boss had a worried look on her face and I heard the handsome man ask if I was alright.
That was when I realized I had been day dreaming…
I was seven years old when I put on my first makeup.
In a hurry to meet the bus, mom had tossed all her makeup back into the bag and bolted out the door…well not all because one fell and rolled under the bed.
Few minutes later, my curiosity was rewarded when I found the object. It was cylindrical in shape and silver in colour. i twisted it and realized that it had a cap which came off the more I turned it.
Then, out came a black stick covered in an odorless thick black liquid with a ‘fluff’ on its tip. I stood in front of a full length mirror and looked at it, wondering how something so messy can work neatly on eyelashes.
I got tired of ‘wondering’ and tried it on. It stung!
My next mascara try was sixteen.
One fateful day, my colleagues and I were invited for a meeting to discuss some business.
We drove to the client’s location and walked in the front door. As I reached for the door knob, a gentleman (or so I thought) stopped me.
‘I’ll get that!’
I smiled and nodded my thank you and walked in to meet a receptionist with an aloof look on her face (don’t know why). I turned to look around and saw the ‘gentlemen’ staring at my deri. He quickly averted his gaze and walked away.
‘Perv!’ I thought.
Back to the now impatient receptionist.
‘We’, referring to my colleagues and I, ‘are here to see our client’.
‘Please hold on, while I confirm your appointment’.
While we waited, a group of rather noisy men walked into the reception area laughing. Two of the men were caucasians, one had the most gorgeous face and dark sleek hair while the other was older (and bald). Their noise attracted my attention so I glanced at them briefly (ok maybe for a moment longer) before turning my attention back to the receptionist.
Suddenly, I felt a firm tap on my bare legs.
Frightened, I jumped and looked down at my feet expecting to see a little rat or cat or something…
‘You shaved your legs!’ The gorgeous-face-with-dark-sleek-hair man exclaimed as his face emerged. I looked at him utterly confused and embarrassed.
‘Nigerian women don’t shave their legs’, he winked, ‘nice.’
It was then I understood his rather weird action. I turned and looked at my colleagues (who were now grinning from ear to ear) and then back at him ‘Hum…’ but he had already left with the others.
Everyone in the room thought the incident was funny…well everyone except the receptionist and me.
On our way back to our office, I decided to pay attention to women’s legs as they walked by. He was right.
But the weird part is, I don’t shave my legs either. Lucky me, there are no pastures on my dainty legs.
Do men find shaven legs sexy or is it just a fetish? Hmn.
A mo
nth ago, I walked into a book store to look for books about baking and decided to explore the ‘relationship’ shelf. My eyes fell on a fuchsia pink, hard cover book titled “As a lady would say” by Sheryl Shade. I gave in to my curiosity and purchased the book then dumped it in my library for later.
I picked it up two weeks ago and wow!
I’ve had a lot of ‘foot in the mouth moments’ and heard myself say things that make me cringe. I don’t curse (except when I am extremely stressed or when someone uses a stupid pickup line) but, boy do I speak my mind. If anyone wants an honest opinion about something, they know who to come to.
However, I have found that I hurt people’s feelings so I have made an effort to not always say what is on my mind. This sometimes makes me a liar but how do you tell a friend that the $600 shoes she just gleefully purchased are ugly or that her engagement ring looks really cheap? You lie!
So naturally when I saw the book, I didn’t think twice about purchasing it (well after I had already flipped through). My journey through the pages has been interesting. It suggests responses and gives examples of the wrong things to say.
Here are a few excerpts:
When a lady notices someone eavesdropping on her conversation…she does not say:
“Would you like to stand closer to me so that you can hear the conversation better?” I usually would say this
“I’m sorry. Should you be included in this conversation?”
“Nosy aren’t you?”
But she does say:
“Let’s continue the private conversation elsewhere”
When an acquaintance asks a lady how old she is, and she prefers not to discuss her age she does not say:
“How old do you think I am?”
“It’s rude to ask a lady her age?” This option looks juicy…
“How old do I look?”
“Why are you asking?”
But she does say
“Sorry but I don’t disclose that information”
There are over 200 examples of situations with appropriate answers! Excited, I started practicing it everyday thinking it would definitely help my relationships. Well…hum…I don’t think it did.
Thirteen days later, everyone thinks an alien took over my body. My boyfriend pulled me back and asked me; “who are you?” My friends think I am a bore and no longer include me in ‘gists’.
I feel like I have turned into a professional liar and a psycho! Argh!
I noticed one of my friends lost weight so fast and so drastic and I couldn’t comment about it. She looked unhealthy, didn’t eat and worries a lot about the invisible fat on her waist line, and (according to the book) I couldn’t say anything about it but comment on how fabulous she looks in a dress!
When I heard her gagging in the bathroom some days later, I waited for her to finish cleaning up and then I spoke my mind. Choosing my words carefully, I convinced her to see a doctor.
Feeling a sense of liberation, I shut the book and tucked it safely away. Truth be told, I can’t help being myself. I have manners (I don’t put my elbows on the table when I eat, don’t chew with my mouth full, greet and make proper introductions when necessary, offer help to people who need it, say sorry and thank you, don’t butt in to conversations rudely, don’t gossip…) but I am no saint!
The book is good. I would totally recommend it to someone who is clueless about etiquette rules but I have learned all I can from the writer. Bottom line; have some manners, don’t talk trash, think before speaking and be empathetic. C’est fini.
