by Becky Monson
I have a job so I couldn’t say I needed to save the money (I did contemplate quitting so that would no longer be an issue … obviously that would’ve been stupid in this economy … or any economy, really). Besides saving money, there was no valid excuse. I knew Anna was not going to accept “I hate change” or “I can’t live on my own” or “I just don’t wanna,” so I had to give in and bite the bullet.
I asked my dad to help me look for apartments, and he convinced me that, with all the money I saved “mooching” off of him (I know he was joking but I must admit that one cut right to the core), I should just purchase a place. So, we spent one weekend looking, and that was all it took for me to find the perfect place for me. It’s on Fourteenth Street in a newly renovated high-rise building. I actually signed paperwork at the bank yesterday and have my keys sitting in my purse. It all happened so fast, which has got to be a gift from the gods. If it had dragged out in any way, I’d have ended up running back to the basement, I’m sure.
So, I have a new place in downtown Denver! It’s just me and the bums. And yes, Jared also lives downtown. But that’s not, and I repeat, not the reason I was even considering downtown. Okay, that might have been part of the reason. But once I saw my new place, I fell in love with it, and it just seemed right, Jared or no Jared.
Anyway, so about Jared. We are soooooo in love. Okay, we aren’t. But there’s love there—he loves my baking (which he’s told me on many occasions), and I love his … well … everything. Seriously. And, yes, I do know it’s not “love,” it’s actually “lust,” and blah, blah, blah. I’ve already heard it all from Anna, which is extremely annoying to take from someone who’s ten years younger than me. Sadly though, she has more experience.
She actually said, “Trust me Julia, I have so so so so so so so so so much more experience in this area.” I may have added a few so’s for emphasis, but that’s essentially what she said.
Actually, it’s been fun to have Anna around to talk to about Jared. I love to tell her all the details of my day. I have Brown at work to talk to, and I thoroughly enjoy reading into things with her, but I can sense something else from Brown. Like maybe a small bit of jealousy? It’s probably not true, but it sometimes feels like it is. Brown can only take so much of my endless chatter. With Anna, it’s so entertaining to talk about him, and she seems genuinely interested and wants to hear all the details, even the ones that are probably boring.
Anna has had some interesting experiences with the opposite sex. I had no idea. She’s given me the gory details of her past relationships, and she’s actually suffered a lot of heartbreak. It’s sad to hear and makes me thankful I’ve avoided all that, thus far.
Honestly, I don’t know what to think about Jared and me. There actually is no “Jared and me,” so that notion is ridiculous. I realize I have little (to no) experience in this area, but I swear he actually seems to like me. I don’t know if it’s a “like-like” situation, but it sometimes does seem that way. Brown sees it, but then tells me not to get too excited. He may just be one of those guys who are overly flirty. But he doesn’t flirt with her. And that’s truly shocking because Brown is the picture perfect girl—every guy’s fantasy. He genuinely seems to like Brown, but he’s just different in the way he talks to her and the way he talks to me.
For example, a couple weeks ago, we were out on a smoke break and Brown casually mentioned going to lunch.
“Um, I’m not sure,” he said, and then he turned to me. “Are you going?” Of course I said yes because, well, do I seriously need to explain? And then he turned back to Brown and said, “Sounds good, I’m in.”
We decided on where to go and just before we were leaving, Jared called my office phone to tell me that he was running late and would meet us there. I thought it was interesting that he called me instead of Brown since she was the one that did the inviting. However, as was already established, I tend to over-think things a little … or a lot.
On the drive over, Brown said, “Let’s try a little experiment.” She gave me a devious smile, and I was a little nervous at what she was about to say. “Let’s ask for a booth when we get to the restaurant and see where Jared sits when he gets there.”
I do love Brown and her little high school antics because it really is so much fun, but then, as we took our seats in the booth, I started to get a little sick thinking about what would happen. And of course, I had to think too much about it. How could I not? No matter where he sat, there were many different reasons for his choice. If he sat next to me, then he most obviously picked me. But then if he sat next to Brown, then he obviously liked her more than me. But then, maybe he sat next to Brown so he can look at me. Of course, if we are going to go there, then if he sat next to me, it might just be to look at Brown. So, you can see my conundrum.
Anyway, in walks Jared to the restaurant. I’m feeling even sicker at this point because I’ve over-thought my brain into a tizzy. But he didn’t even flinch or look like he was even thinking about it. He walked right in and sat next to … me.
Brown looked over and winked at me, and we gave each other conspiracy-type smiles over the tops of our menus. Of course, then I went back to thinking maybe he was sitting next to me because he wanted to look at Brown, but that notion pretty much died down when he mainly paid most of his attention to me. He even touched me a couple of times on my arm, and actually put his arm around me after we were done eating and waiting for our checks. Okay, it wasn’t so much around me, but resting on the booth behind me. But it was near me, and I’m going to count it.
Lucky for me that I have Brown, right? And what’s also great about her is she has way fewer inhibitions than I do (like, way, way fewer), so I can get her to ask him questions about things I want to know about him. Stuff I’m not willing to ask him myself.
She’s just better at digging into people’s business. Plus, it won’t make him think that I have this super-duper crush on him which, of course, I do. I do realize that I’m acting like I’m in high school. I’m just not good at this, and since this is my first crush in like a bajillion years, plus the fact that this guy is completely out of my league, I’m doomed to rejection. So, I’ll drag this out until I finally give up and move on or die of old age. Whichever comes first, probably the latter.
Here’s the latest that we know about Jared: his birthday is September 22, which makes him a Libra, but on the cusp of a Virgo. He didn’t tell me the sign part (he doesn’t seem like the type that gets into that stuff), I looked that up on my own. It just so happens our signs are quite compatible. Of course, this must be fate.
Jared’s favorite color is navy blue. I found this out when I wore a navy blue shirt to work. Then Anna had to talk me out of picking everything that was navy blue the next time we went shopping. I swear it was subconscious. I swear I didn’t even realize I was doing it.
He loves cars and everything to do with them. I told him I drove a Honda Accord, and he then told me all the specs about my car. I pointed it out to him in the parking lot one time during a break, and he could tell me the year just by looking at it. I was totally impressed. Probably a little overly impressed, at least that’s what Brown thought. It is, after all, just a Honda Accord. Not like he was guessing the year of some car people rarely drive. But I did find it manly and impressive. I even checked out a Car and Driver magazine when I was at the grocery store just so we could have something else to talk about—just him and me—and I made it to page two before I totally lost interest. Cars are not my thing.
On a side note, one time when I was exceptionally bored at work I found this website that tells you your personality based on the car you drive, and under Honda Accord it said, “You have no creative ability and are basically a lemming.” I found this to be somewhat true and a bit depressing.
More about Jared… Interestingly enough, he doesn’t drink, as in, at all. That news was kind of weird and awkward, actually. What happened was when we were out on a smoke break, Brown asked him if he wanted to go
out for drinks after work and he said, “I don’t drink.” And Brown laughed and said, “Okay, but that doesn’t mean you can’t come hang out with us.” And he was all, “I don’t like being near alcohol, at all.” He seemed kind of short with us after that, then excused himself and went back to work. Brown and I, of course, discussed this in detail and tried to break down everything to figure out this mysterious behavior (high schoolers back in business). I think we deduced that he must be a recovering alcoholic, or perhaps someone close to him died from alcohol. All I know is it made me want to hold him and let him know everything would be alright, and if he was a recovering alcoholic I’d be his sponsor or something. Of course, I think you have to have been an alcoholic to be a sponsor, but whatever. I’d be his support.
I did get Brown to ask him about past girlfriends, just to see if he’s still hung up on one of them or something. He was not particularly forthcoming, but we did get a little information from him. Apparently, the last girlfriend he had was for three years, and it was one of those off and on tumultuous-type relationships. He got pretty burned by it and hasn’t really been looking for anything for a while. He did look over at me and wink after he said that which was quite strange, and was promptly discussed in detail with Brown after he went back to his office.
Jared has actually been out of town the past week, and I’ve got to say, it’s been dreary at work, like, agonizingly dreary. First of all, Mr. Nguyen has been on a rampage having me do all these stupid reports that are still not making any sense to me. I’m starting to wonder if he’s losing it, and I mean for real this time. He’s always seemed a little loony, but I think it’s getting worse.
For example, today he gave me some handwritten numbers to plug into a report I was working on, and I couldn’t tell what one of the numbers was. It looked like a squiggly mark or something. What the hell am I supposed to do with that? So I asked him about it, and he told me I must be mistaken and shooed me out the door. So now I’m not quite sure what I should do with this report. I tried using my detective skills and looking at what number he might have meant, but I’m still at square one.
So currently, since I can’t figure out this stupid report, I’m rereading the article I ripped out of the Cosmo magazine when that awful incident happened with my upper lip/mustache. Which, by the way, I noticed the hairs were starting to reappear, and for fear of having to lock myself away forever, I decided to try one of those pads that are supposed to rub the hair off. I ended up rubbing myself practically raw and looked like Yosemite Sam for the better part of a weekend. My dad could no longer control his actions, and laughed until he cried when he saw me. Thank goodness I was smart enough to try it on a weekend, instead of a weeknight. I seriously can’t win in that area. Next stop is electrolysis, although I’ve heard it’s incredibly painful. So, I’ll be putting that off indefinitely.
Back to the article, the one about how to date a coworker, aptly titled “How to Date a Coworker.” This, of course, is not because I have some visions of grandeur and think Jared and I are dating, but it does have some clues into how to tell whether it’s a thought that may have gone through his head.
For example, it says: “It's promising if he's in an unrelated department yet asks your opinion on a project of his. It indicates that he’s looking for an excuse to talk to you and values your opinion.” He’s never asked me to work on a project with him, however, he’s still very interested in my and Brown’s knowledge of the company and the people in it. I’m grasping at straws here. I think I’ll move on.
Another article I just happened to find online and bookmarked, you know, for posterity’s sake or something like that, was “Three Ways To Tell if You Are More Than Friends.” I found it to be very intriguing … for posterity’s sake. The first way, according to the article, is to simply ask. I laughed out loud at that one, and then got a little queasy when I envisioned myself actually asking. It said if you do that, it’s kind of like ripping the bandage off, you’ll know one way or the other. I’m not sure I’m ready. I’m a take-the-bandage-off-slowly kind of gal anyway, so it’s a no-go for me.
The second way to tell, according to the article, is to ignore the person. This one I found intriguing. The theory is if you back off from the person and don’t pay attention to them or go out of your way to see them, then one of two things will happen. He will either miss you and then make an effort to see you, or he’ll back off altogether and then you have your answer. That way there’s no confrontation, and it’s in your control. Here is the biggest problem with that. How do you avoid the one person you actually want to see? How long would I have to suffer? And if he just backed off and went away (the likely of the two), then there goes the flirting, the fun, the excitement, my will to live.…
The third way to tell if you’re more than friends is to hang out alone as much as you possibly can. According to the article, this is the most honest approach instead of the game-playing that ignoring someone truly is. This is obviously the most appealing way to me, but how do I do it? We’ve never hung out outside of work (except for a few lunches), and when Brown casually mentioned going out for drinks, we were quickly shot down. So, the only way to hang out alone with him is to get assigned to a project that he’s working on, or to go to lunch alone with him. The project sounds the most appealing because it’s the least unnerving to me.
We have had some lunches together, but Brown has been there, which is how I like it. The only lunch Jared and I had alone was stressful, to say the least—he also thought I might have herpes, but why relive that part? I don’t know if I can handle it alone again. Granted, I didn’t know him very well back then. But now I’ve come to rely too much on Brown as a buffer. It’s much less stressful for me if she’s there.
Okay, a project it is. How the heck do I get put on a project with Jared, though? I guess the best way to do it is go to the source—Jared’s boss, Mr. Calhoun—and ask him.
By now I realize I’ve established myself as a complete idiot, but truthfully I’m not that stupid. Of course, I’m not going to march up to Mr. Calhoun’s office and ask to be put on a project with Jared. First of all, he’d just scoff at me and then probably ask me to make him some cupcakes. And honestly, it just wouldn’t make sense—me in accounting, Jared in HR. The whole notion is silly. No, the only hope I have is to throw it out to the universe and hope that the chick who wrote that Secret book is right.
So there, I’m sending it out. Show me what you’ve got, Universe.
“Julia?” A voice pulls me out of my self-serving universal wish.
I look up to see none other than Mr. Calhoun standing in my door way. Whoa, that’s crazy.
“Yes?” I say and quickly click off the article I was reading, and then say a prayer of thanks that my computer is strategically placed so no one can see what I’m doing.
“I need you to help me with something,” he says as he comes into my office and shuts the door behind him. He takes a seat in one of the guest chairs facing my desk.
“What can I help you with?” I ask, slightly concerned that his shutting of the door means this is serious business.
“I need this to be top secret. Please do not discuss this with anyone including your boss or any of your friends at work.” And by “friends,” he must mean Brown and possibly Jared, although I’m not sure how much he knows about my friendship with Jared.
“Sure, no problem.”
“I need you to …” he trails off as his Blackberry vibrates and he pulls it out of his belt loop holder, looking at it quickly to see who’s calling. It’s probably Martha requesting a quick rendezvous in the supply closet.
“Make cupcakes?” I chime in without really thinking.
He gives me a weird look. “Um, no,” he says, squinting his beady little eyes at me, shaking his head no. Then he does this little fake, uncomfortable laugh.
Oh, dear Lord, I’ve just insulted him. I have just insulted my boss’s boss. By insinuating his super-secret request is cupcakes, I’m actua
lly saying he’s a Fatty McFat-Fat. And not just a run-of-the-mill fatty, but one who eats in private and doesn’t want anybody to know about it, secretly hiding the evidence down deep in the trash can. I try to cover my faux pas up by laughing like I was just joking, but it’s not really working. It’s just awkward.
He shakes his head quickly and closes his eyes like he’s trying to remember why he was here in the first place. Or perhaps he’s changing his mind and will fire me on the spot. I can’t say I’d blame him.
“Um, Julia, what I need you to do is help me out with some reports, and I need it to be the ‘proverbial’ hush-hush,” he says and smiles thinly at me, making air quotes around his usage of proverbial.
“No problem, I can do that,” I say, relieved he’s quickly recovered and moved on from the cupcake comment. I’m wondering what the heck kind of report I’d do that Mr. Nguyen can’t know about.
“This means you’ll have to do this after work since I don’t want anyone to know about what you’re doing,” he says, looking at me like I don’t really have a choice and, honestly, after insinuating that his fat butt wanted some cupcakes, I’m not at liberty to argue about it.
“Sure, that won’t be a problem,” says the spinster who has no life after work anyway.
“Great. Just meet me in my office after work, and again, I cannot stress enough about keeping this secret, a … um … secret.”
With that, he squeezes himself out of the guest chair and heads to the door. He turns back to me before leaving, “Cupcakes would also be great, by the way,” he says as he winks at me, and then he opens the door and leaves my office.
Okay, so one thing is for sure, when you throw something out to the Universe, it answers quickly. And the other thing that’s for sure, either that book is complete malarkey or the Universe is hard of hearing. What part of “put me on a project with Jared” meant “put me on a super-secret project with his boss?” Stupid Universe. Stupid book.