The Eternal Intern (Contemporary Romantic Comedy)
Page 2
He told me that the internship would be unpaid but he would give me some newly released CD's, concert tickets, and club entries for free in exchange for my work.
Wait, did he say no money but concert tickets and club entries for free? I was seventeen years old and lived with my parents. I didn't need money, I needed social status. And that is precisely what I was about to get.
The team was very small. In addition to Marc, who owned the magazine, there was Paul. He was a small and pale black-haired guy who was surely still sleeping in his parent’s bed because he was afraid of the dark. And then there was Loretta a daughter of Italian immigrants. She just broke up with her boyfriend after dating him for five years. I was not sad about that fact. She was a stunner; the classical Sophia Loren type. Very curvy, full red lips, long hazelnut brown curly hair, and black eyes that you can get yourself lost in. She was, after Samantha Fox, my second big crush in life. It was clear that I would not have a chance with her. My hairstyle was parted perfectly down the middle. In other words, if you would have colored the front of my hair golden it would have looked like the “M” in the McDonald's sign. Looking back today, I wish I would still have that much hair.
I had permanent braces on my teeth and was wearing Harry Potter style glasses. It’s hard to believe, but I wasn't the best looking man at the time.
I mostly worked three weekdays after school and on the weekends for the magazine, mainly writing about the music scene. Now and then I had to go to night clubs or concerts to report from them. I loved it. I got into nightclubs with a VIP status and got backstage tickets for the Spice Girls, Tom Jones, Robby Williams, you name it. Suddenly I had friends, and girls started to be interested in me. Well, they were more interested in the fact that I got them VIP and backstage access into the hottest clubs and concerts in town. But I didn't care. The job did not help me lose my virginity, but at least in my fantasy it did.
On a cold November night I went with eleven friends from school to a big DJ competition in the hottest club in town. Being young and naive I really thought the eleven individuals were my friends. But clearly they just wanted to use my connections to get into the club. I did consider that scenario somehow but I didn't want to put too much thought into it. We all met about a block away from the club. After we were complete, I walked up to the club passing the long waiting line with my entourage behind me. I felt like a mafia boss. In my head I heard the Bee Gees playing “Night Fever”. I even tried to walk like John Travolta. I must have looked ridiculous. I wore a cheap black suit with a white shirt and a black tie. Absolutely overdressed. Not the last time I would make this mistake.
I enjoyed the people standing in line looking at me enviously. Somehow, I felt respected.
Even though I had guaranteed entrance into the club I still got nervous when I stood in front of the bouncer.
“Hello Sir, Patrick plus eleven,” I said trying to avoid the bouncer’s eyes. He looked into his big brown leather book that was lying on a stand in front of him. He focused on the page for about ten seconds. It felt like five hours to me.
“Patrick plus eleven? Mhhh?” he mumbled looking over the pages.
My tension rose. If I am not on the list what would my friends think of me and especially the people in the line I just passed very arrogantly? The bouncer’s eyes moved up and down, left and right along the page.
“Oh, yes here we go. Patrick plus eleven! Welcome Sir, I hope you enjoy the evening,” he smiled at me opening the door to the club. I was relieved, and felt fifty pounds lighter.
The music was pounding out on the streets. It was a glorious feeling. I felt like the king of the world that night. We stepped inside and became part of the action. Blue lights, red lights, green lights, they flashed in a disturbing but harmonic way. The place was hopping, absolutely packed with good looking people. Young, barely dressed girls moving their hips on the dance floor as if they were making love to it, and always about eight guys around them hoping to get some attention from them. I walked straight up to the bar and ordered a Martini. I don't really like Vodka but I thought if James Bond drinks it and gets laid it has to work for me.
The bartender shouted in my direction ”LEMON TWIST OR OLIVES?”.
I glared at him. What the heck does he mean?
“NO, I JUST WANT THE MARTINI, THANK YOU”.
“I UNDERSTAND, BUT WITH A LEMON TWIST OR OLIVES?” he asked again leaning towards me.
I got agitated. I replied again, this time very confident “NO JUST THE DRINK, NO SNACKS. NOT HUNGRY RIGHT NOW!”.
The bar keeper glared at me like I had ten heads, turned away and proceeded to make the drink for me. What an idiot I thought.
As I was waiting for the Martini I looked around. It was a great spot here at the bar. It was at the end of the room and had a great view on the dance floor and the couches around it. My friends spread out. Some were dancing, others were trying to hit on girls.
I stayed in the back and enjoyed the people watching. Actually, I was just too darn shy because I never had a girl in my life before. Well, I once had a little holiday adventure with a Spanish girl. I was sixteen, she was twenty one but she thought I was twenty. I really like to fool the girls about my true age. But that was nearly two years ago.
The music was vibrating through my body and made me feel alive. I looked around the club, “So many good looking girls,” I thought to myself. But to my discomfort there were a lot of good looking guys there, too. Competition, I didn’t like. I was fooling myself. I would have never had the courage to approach a girl and try to engage her into a conversation. I didn't even know what to say. Hello? Do you come here often? Like the music? Terrible openers. I dropped the idea and kept glancing over the dance floor. As I was looking around, a familiar but beautiful face grabbed my attention. Loretta? The hottie from work was her! - she was the reason I wake up every morning with damp underwear - My eyes were following every move she made on the dance floor. She looked amazing in her tight black dress. Her naked shoulders were moving to the rhythm of the music. Her hips circled with the beat as if she was one with the music. She tossed her head to all sides and stroked her beautiful curly hair. She looked like she was enjoying herself immensely. I couldn't take my eyes off her. Suddenly, she smiled in my direction. She noticed me, I realized in disbelieve. I didn't smile back, I felt like a thief that got caught. I was looking around the place to act like I hadn't seen her. The song came to an end and the DJ started the next. Loretta stopped dancing and whispered something into her girlfriend’s ear. Her head turned into my direction. Oh my god, oh my god, she’s coming over. I tried to relax myself. Ok Patrick, stay cool. Do exactly what you read in your flirt guide book, I mumbled to myself. She was getting closer and closer. I took a deep breath and tried to be as cool as possible, but in reality my stomach turned. Oh boy here she is, right in front of me.
She leaned forward to my ear and said in an angel like voice “Hi, you’re Patrick right, the new guy at the magazine?” She took her head back again, looking into my eyes with a big friendly smile.
“Ahem, yes,” I replied.
“Can I buy you a drink?” I blurted out immediately.
No wait! You don't offer that to a girl. That was rule number one in every flirt guide book. Never ever invite her to a drink or she will take advantage of you.
“Sure, but let me buy you one instead!” she countered to my surprise.
What a cool girl. I would have never expected that.
“I know that you don't get paid as an intern. What do you want?,” she asked.
“Nothing, thanks. I just ordered a Martini. But watch it they like to talk you into buying some snacks as well”.
“What do you mean?,” she asked surprised.
“The bar keeper tried to sell me a lemon twist or olives with my Martini. I guess they are some kind of lemon or olive flavored peanuts!” I said very seriously and slightly annoyed, thinking that the bar keeper was trying to pull the money out of my pocket.
“You thought that he was trying to sell you lemon or olive flavored peanuts with your Martini?” she asked me like she didn't want to believe what she just heard.
“Sure, what else could he have meant with lemon twist or olives?” I answered blushing.
“You’re funny!” she smiled at me wiping a tear off her cheek.
She thinks I am funny. I didn’t know why but I felt flattered. “The Martini always comes with a lemon twist or olives in it” she explained to me bursting into laughter again.
“I know, I was just trying to make a joke,” I replied trying to fix my stupidity but unable to hide my embarrassment.
“Don't worry, I think that is cute. You didn't want to impress me like all the other guys. That's unique.” She smiled.
At that moment, I felt five feet taller. Not even my mom ever said to me that I am unique. Confidence rushed through my body. I was playing the game. The bar keeper put a Martini glass beside me on the bar with three olives in it. I smiled at him. Loretta ordered a Cosmopolitan.
“How do you like the internship so far?” she asked, leaning into me - always when I felt her breath on my ear I got the shivers - She was so damn sexy.
“It’s good up to now. But I still have to get used to it. I just started four weeks ago,” I explained taking a sip from my glass. “Don't worry, you'll be fine” she said calmly.
She gave me a big smile, “Want to dance?” she asked me to my surprise, extending her hand out towards mine.
I didn't expect this. The last time I danced was more than six years ago at my cousin’s wedding. I was so nervous about it that I practiced nearly an hour in my hotel room different dance moves, and I still miserably failed on the dance floor. If I wanted to get closer to Loretta I had to dance with her and she knew how to dance. The pressure cooker was on.
I took her hand and said very confidently “Sure!”
We walked to the middle of the dance floor squeezing through the crowd of sweating bodies. The beats were pumping. I looked around, spotted a guy with a good dancing style and tried to copy his moves. I just hoped Loretta wouldn't notice. She started to move her hips in the same way as I watched her earlier on. She moved like she was in ecstasy. The music was her drug. I kept my hands low and was trying to move my hips. I was thinking of the recent Ricky Martin video I watched. But I didn't really move like him at all. As we were dancing side by side our eyes met frequently. I wanted to dance closer to her but didn't have the confidence. Suddenly her hips moved towards me. She pushed her head slightly forward and rested her forehead on mine as she was still moving her hips to the rhythm. I felt her sweat drip down my nose. In a rapid move she brushed her backside against my pelvis. Now that was dancing as well, believe me. She moved her hips intensively left and right. I had to concentrate and focus or something very shameful would have happened down there. I could see my friends smiling over to me making nasty hand gestures. I hoped Loretta doesn't see this. We kept dancing in this position for at least the next three songs. Then she turned around bent forward and shouted “I AM DYING OF THIRST. LET'S HIT THE BAR!”
I nodded and followed her back to the bar like a dog that is being taken for a walk. As we were standing at the bar waiting to give our order she was still moving to the beat. She was having the time of her life. I ordered us some water and 2 shots of Tequila. That was rule number two in my flirt guide book: If you drink with a woman, get shots. They make them drunk really fast and make you look like a man with taste. Loretta loved the idea. We were pounding one after another. My throat was raw from the alcohol. I tried to hide it. Loretta seemed very practiced in having shots. After about four shots each we were looking at each other. No one spoke a word. The beats were filling the room with noise. Loretta had a bleary look in her eyes. She was drunk. Absolutely drunk. I know this will not sound very respectful but I took advantage of the situation. I leaned forward, getting closer and closer to her full red lips. I was about an inch away as she suddenly pulled her head back glared at me and shouted “WHAT’S YOUR PROBLEM?”
“NOTHING, I ONLY WANTED TO LEAN FORWARD TO SAY SOMETHING INTO YOUR EAR!” I said in shook trying to save myself.
She didn't believe me. She turned away and walked back into the crowd. I stayed a little longer at the bar thinking that I blew it. Eventually one of my friends approached me and said they were
heading home. A few hours later I was lying in my bed staring at the ceiling thinking how awkward it’s going to be at work tomorrow.
Chapter 3
A new day
I could hardly sleep that night, twisting and turning in bed thinking about how I messed everything up. Loretta will never talk to me again. Why did I try to kiss her? The flirt book stated clearly that she has to initiate the kiss or at least give her the feeling she did. I felt stupid.
As I entered work later the following day, I got scared. I hoped Loretta wasn't in. I entered the office and saw Marc sitting behind his desk making some phone calls as usual. There didn't seem to be anyone else in the office. My desk was in a side room right beside Loretta's, where she was selling advertisements to be placed in the magazine. I opened the glass door and could hear her voice. My heart stopped beating, I took a deep breath, and stepped inside. She looked at me quickly and carried on talking to the customer on the phone. I walked to my desk, put my backpack on the floor and sat down. I felt so uncomfortable. I wanted to quit the internship right away and never come back. She eventually hung up and said hello to me as she was typing something into her computer.
She didn't even look at me as she said it. I assembled all my bravery and said “Loretta because of what happened last night, I-”
“Don't worry. We both were drunk and got a little crazy. Today is a new day!” she interrupted me smiling.
I felt so much better. The sad thing about it was that I wasn't drunk last night.
I survived the day somehow. I didn't talk to Loretta that much. We both were very busy and didn't really have time to talk to each other even if we wanted too. As I packed up my belongings to call it a day, Loretta asked me if I wanted to grab something to eat.
“I haven't eaten all day. Marc is on my back trying to push me to do more sales. Do you mind joining me?”
Do I mind? She must be insane. I would even pay to spend time with her. I do hope I will never have to pay for the company of a woman.
“Sure. Let's do sushi,” I replied quickly closing my bag.
I had to gain momentum again and tried to follow the steps in my flirt book. Take control and don't let the woman decide. Decide for her. Well, that's the theory in the book.
“Sushi? I love Sushi. Good taste,” her eyes opened excited.
I smiled in discomfort because I didn't know any Sushi places in the area.
We wandered around the city for a while and luckily enough we passed one.
“This is my favorite place. I always come here,” I lied to her.
The place actually seemed very nice from the inside. We were seated at the bar right next to a big fish tank.
“Do you like pets?,” I asked her starting to make conversation.
“I used to have a dog. One day when I have a family I'll get another one,” she replied taking a glimpse at the menu.
“God, I could eat a bear. What are you having Pat?” she said as her index finger glided along the menu.
“Oh, I'll have some of this and some of that over there,” I was pointing on some weird names on the menu.
I have never had sushi before. All I knew was that it's raw fish and rice.
“Great!” she replied.
“Four Nagiri, two sashimi and three tempura, please” she told the cook behind the bar.
After putting down the order for the two of us Lorett
a turned her body in my direction. I felt nervous and started to play with the chopsticks.
“Patrick, you're a good dancer,” she smiled at me.
Me? “Well, I do have my talents,” I said in a rather cocky manner.
“How long have you been with City Lights?” I asked her trying to take control of the conversation.
“Ah, too long. I'm actually trying to find something else but I don't know what. Do you know what you want to become?” she passed the ball back to me.
I had to think a minute about my answer. If I tell her I want to be a TV host I was afraid she would laugh at me and think I'm a dreamer. But that is what I really want to do. On the other hand, if I lie to her it could backfire one day.
“Me? Well, uhh, ahem, honestly?” I asked her awkwardly.
“Yeah, tell me. Don't make it so exciting,” she said gesticulating with her hands.
“I would like to work on TV”.
“Wow, what exactly?”.
“TV stuff. You know, working with people, traveling to different places....”.
”But what exactly? What you’re telling me could be anything,” she interrupted me.
She had a point. I took a deep breath and said “TV host”.
Wow! I said it. It felt good. I expected her to laugh or say that I am a dreamer. But she looked at me and said “Why don't you go to a radio station?”
“Yeah, great idea!” I answered in surprise because I never thought of that option.
I felt weird that night. Somehow I have never expected to sit here with her. I imagined it often enough, but actually experiencing it was truly beautiful.