Wait! Was she just flirting? Do I flirt like that?!
OMG. I’ve been trying to come up with a phrase that would be the direct opposite to the phrase “to add insult to injury” or in Bibi’s words “when shit mixes with piss”. So like, for example when you order one scoop of ice cream but you get another one for free or when you try on an old pair of jeans that you’re sure will be too small for you but are actually too big for you? Or when you’re dating someone you feel no attraction for but is perfect in every other way, then you kiss and it’s like fireworks… none of those are very well written but you get what I mean right? Well I had one of those moments!
In case you didn’t read my post from two weeks ago THE DISCOVERY OF AN INTERESTING BIT OF INFORMATION – read it! Cause I thought I found out an AMAZING secret, but now – OMG! The scandal of it all! I must have been good these past two weeks or maybe the queen of karma (who ever that bitch is) has decided to bless me with extra tea!
When I went to work today, I had no idea I was not only about to find something out but that I would catch someone out. I’m literally squirming in my seat because I know, that I know a scandalous, delicious secret. I don’t know what I’m going to do with it but I know that I know it, and knowing something is better than not knowing something. I know that for sure.
It all started after lunch when I was sitting at my desk, reading Perez Hilton and listening to Slave For You by Britney Spears when one of the three trainees I share the office with Erika Pineapple Arse spilled her cup of tea on the floor.
‘Oh fuck!’ she said, ‘Barbara is going to have a bloody fit if there’s a stain on the carpet!’
Erika Pineapple Arse got up from her chair and in her frenzy knocked over a whole pile of papers and folders that were sitting on the edge of the empty table between us along with a small potted plant that was on her desk. They fell over the spilled tea, making the most disgusting looking mess.
‘Shit!’ she said and grabbed a whole bunch of tissues.
I got up to help her clean up but the tea was literally everywhere. It even sprayed on the bottom of the wall. I grabbed a tea towel from the kitchen ran it under hot water and came back to the trainee’s office. Both of us were on our hands and knees scrubbing the cream coloured carpeted floor with the tea towel and tissues.
‘Honestly, if you aren’t doing doggy, then being on the floor like this is never worth it!’ Erika Pineapple Arse said nonchalantly.
Right, I should tell you a bit about Erika Pineapple Arse before I tell you what happened next.
Erika aka Pineapple Arse
Erika Pineapple Arse sits right across from me and I like her. She is the first of two other trainees who were hired around the same time I was hired. She is fun, lovely, down to earth and kind. And her arse, apparently, tastes like pineapples.
Hen’s nights, weddings, engagement parties, all day boozy brunches, Erika is always organising something for the weekend. She’ll be looking and talking to me while texting someone on her phone and having a completely different conversation with someone else.
Erika has been with her husband Tom for “since foreva”. They met when they were twelve started dating when they were fourteen, broke up when they were sixteen didn’t talk to each other until they were twenty one where they had a one night stand except, technically, he never left her house. They were married a year later.
I met Tom a few times at after work drinks. He’s very nice and polite with a good sense of humour. He looks like a young ginger Santa Clause but more burley than fat.
They love four things according to her:
Traveling: They’ve “done” Vietnam, Australia, New Zealand, and practically all of Europe and plan to travel to every country by the time they retire.
Beer: They plan to have a beer in every country they ever ever visit.
Food: They plan to eat the local authentic cuisine of every restaurant in every country they travel to.
Sex: They plan to have sex in any and every position they can in every country they ever visit.
I don’t know why it’s only with me but Erika loves to share intimate details of her sex life. Where they’ve done, it how many times that week, what they haven’t tried yet (it’s not much) the best organism she had etc.
Erika is incredibly voluptuous. Like, incredibly. I can’t stop staring at her body sometimes. Not in a judgy way, but she has curves everywhere. Even her curves have curves. Her boobs are massive and so is her arse. She’s always complaining about clothes not fitting her properly and that she would go on a diet if she didn’t like eating so much and if Tom didn’t like her how she was.
‘He calls me jiggle Puff,’ she laughs, ‘I call him Biga-chu.’
I have never ever asked her why she chose that name for him and I don’t want to know. I’m sure she’ll tell me of her own accord in some inappropriate time.
Apparently she get’s “difficult to deal with” when she’s on a diet. Being miserable when she can’t eat affects her sexual appetite and Tom can’t have that. He’d rather have her happy and horny instead of skinny and shitty. Fair enough I suppose.
When it was someone’s birthday in the office there was a pineapple upside down cake going around and as Erika took a bite of it she turned to me and said,
‘It’s weird, whenever Tom eat my arse out he always tells me it tastes like pineapples. Could be worse right? At least its not eggplants or something foul like that.’
I was mid chew my pineapple upside down cake and was trying hard not to regurgitate but also was quite offended that she thought eggplants taste bad. I’d love it if my arse tasted like eggplants. So ever since then I’ve been calling her (in my head) Erika Pineapple Arse.
I only responded to her doggy comment with an agreeing kind of giggle. I haven’t and don’t think I’ll reach the same level of comfort with Erika Pineapple Arse to talk to her about whether or not eating arse is my thing or not. Gross.
We cleaned up the carpet as best we could and she started wiping the wall while I got the stack of papers and folders she knocked over sorted.
There were some papers that were part of the Grogary case. I don’t know why they were sitting on the spare table that no one uses. I could tell these were a much earlier drafts of some contracts from two years ago from another firm called Packers and Hyde. Some of the papers had tea on them and were all soggy. I’m not one to ruthlessly throw things away (including grudges, emotions and leftovers) so I took the papers that had tea all over them and put them in a separate pile to the other papers.
‘Hello, hello ladies! sorry I’m a bit late, I was stuck in a meeting with the partners. They called me in last minute, really needed another opinion. Oh what happened here?’
Oh shut the fuck up! I wanted to say when Rohan Just a Little Bit walked in. But instead I looked over at him and said,
‘What does it look like? I dropped my tea and all this other stuff, don’t tell Barbara she’ll flip her shit,’ Erika Pineapple Arse said.
‘Ah yes, no point crying over spilt milk, well tea in this case,’ he said adding a ludicrous laugh.
‘You’re hilarious,’ Erika Pineapple Arse said scrubbing the wall harder.
‘I was going to go with ‘well, that’s the way the soil crumbles but I thought the milk / tea reference would be funnier,’ Rohan Just a Little Bit said as he sat at his desk across from me to the right.
‘You know, if you have to explain your joke, that means it isn’t funny,’ I said not looking at him.
‘What? Sorry, hang on my phone is ringing, oh it’s a client,’ he said and put the phone to his ear, ‘talk to me.’
O-M-G I HATE HIM.
Rohan Just a Little Bit
Rohan Just a Little Bit is the second of three other trainees who were hired around the same time I was hired and he’s as annoying as your period showing up when you were planning to spend the day the beach.
Even though he isn’t short, he suffers from short man syndrome and has the need to prove himself to everyone all the fucking time.
Having studied in the States (Brown, it’s an IVY League College by the way) he has this faux American accent that he puts on when he wants to sound super charming, intelligent or cool. He never sounds any of those things – ever. It’s painful because he’ll use phrases that I think, he thinks, are American. Like ‘aha’, ‘is that right?’, ‘you don’t say?’ or the famous ‘Talk to me’ when he picks up his phone. OMG I hate him.
Rohan Just a Little Bit is of average height and average looks (kind of mousey looking). He would be much better looking if he didn’t spike his hair up so high and use so much gel in it and wore better glasses and suits that fit him better (they are always a bit too big for him).
Even though he went to a “pretty prestigious” school he’s not actually clever and makes a lot of mistakes at work. Not that I should be judging anyone’s performance at work. Despite the fact that he’s not very clever (or maybe to make up for it) he works like a fucking robot. Rohan Just a Little Bit is always in before anyone else and leaves after everyone else has left. The little rat is ambitious AF.
Another sign of his desperation to be loved and promoted is that he’s always trying to be all buddy buddy with the partners. It’s so cringe to watch. I wonder if that’s what they teach you at Brown? How to be a suck up until your lips are literally making love to someone’s arse hole?
At any social work occasion, he somehow wriggles himself to be near the partners where he starts talking about luxury watches, cigars, football stuff, real estate and general stuff that no one cares about but him. He has a particular fondness for D4 I’ve noticed. D4 is the asshole who wants to fire me cause I failed his test or whatever (loser). I’m sure Rohan Just a Little Bit is mapping out how exactly how he can shove his face right up D4’s arse for a prime spot to be next in line to get a training contract.
I have to say though, he can be nice. Sometimes. When he sees anyone overwhelmed with work he’ll offer to help out. And also, he likes to pretend he knows what the partners and clients are always thinking and tries to give the rest of us a heads-up. He’s almost always wrong, but it’s nice of him anyway.
He tried to hit on me when I first started working there. When I said I like Game of Thrones, he said I kind of look like Khaleesi. I can assure you, right now that I look nothing like the blond, hot mother of dragons. I put a stop to that shit right then and slipped into the conversation that I’m only into black guys. I’m not. I mean I’m not not into black guys but I’m not only into black guys. You know what I mean.
‘Indian guys are kind of black,’ he said with a smile.
‘I don’t think so.’
I noticed that he started listening to hip-hop and rap music after that. He’d turn it up super loud so I can hear it even though he was wearing earphones. So now I’ve been throwing hints that I’m a lesbian. I’m a bit worried though. I have no clue what clichéd ideas he has about lesbians so I hope he doesn’t dye his hair blond and start dressing like Ellen or something.
Despite driving a sports car and owning a few Rolex’s (he has his eye on an AP as well) he’s the stingiest person I’ve ever come across ever. It’s gross. Once after work drinks, I had to share a cab with him and he wanted to split the bill (which isn’t stingy I don’t mind obviously) but when I was short one dirham, he said I could pay him at the office the next day. I almost fainted.
I wonder if stinginess is linked to gluttony? Because all he ever eats for lunch is toasted sandwiches or soup but whenever anyone in the close vicinity of his desk pulls out their lunch, a snack or dessert he’ll just stare at them and ask,
‘What’s that? Smells good, looks good. Does it taste good?’
Until you feel so fucking awkward that you’re like ‘Do you want some Rohan?’ And his response is always the fucking same:
‘Just a little bit.’
Gross! Hence the nick name, Rohan Just a Little Bit.
Me and Erika Pineapple Arse kept exchanging looks at each other when ever Rohan Just A Little Bit says another cringe phrase to whoever is on the other end of the phone. He’s pretending it’s a client but why would a client call him? It’s probably another trainee from another law from we have to deal with telling him he made a mistake in one of his emails. Loser.
‘Oh Drats! Is that now? Yeah chime me in!’ he said and placed his hand over the speaker of the phone, ‘can one of you girls go to the photocopy room and grab the contract that I’ve been printing for the last half hour? It’s probably done printing all the copies now – it’s for todays meeting with the partners.’
‘I’m kind of busy Rohan,’ Erica Pineapple arse said, ‘I’m pretty sure you can walk and talk at the same time.’
And keep talking that mess, that’s fine
But could you walk and talk at the same time?
And it’s my mine name that is on that tag
So remove your bags let me call you a cab
To the left, to the left
By the way that tends to happen in normal conversation with me. Someone will just say a line and I’ll remember that same line from a song and I’ll start singing it in my head. To the left, to the left by Beyoncé.
‘Sarah, are you listening?’ Rohan Just a Little Bit called out to me, ‘I can’t get off this call, she’s dialling me in a conference call. Can you please get those contracts in the photocopy room? No one can see them – they are confidential.’
‘Sure,’ I said and rolled my eyes at Erika Pineapple arse who made a gag face at him.
I left papers I was sorting on my desk and walked down the hall. I walked passed the junior and senior associates open plan offices and then passed the partners offices (all the walls are glass which means I have to make sure that I’m not slouching and that I’m half cat walking in a completly natural way) and then passed the meeting rooms.
Then I saw her. Walking toward me, but completely oblivious to my existence was Francis Darlington aka Alpha Bitch. She was holding a laptop in one hand and talking on her cell phone on the other as she walked past me. OMG she smells amazing as usual. Like a bouquet of roses.
‘Yah, yah, I have the documents right here, I’ll go into a meeting room and we can go through it together,’ she said.
That’s her, the third trainee… a trainee to rule them all. One trainee to put them in their place, one trainee scare them, one trainee to make them feel like shit and in meetings by throughing them under the bus.
Francis Darlington aka Alpha Bitch
I don’t need a list to describe her. All I need are three words – Fucking Alpha Bitch. But I’ll make a list anyway so you guys can get the full 360-degree Alpha Bitch experience.
Francis is beautiful in the most boring way. She’s super tall, like almost six feet AND she wear heels. She has amazing posture and is built like a gymnast with the perfect most balanced anatomy ever. EVER. She looks strong as well, like she can crush a beer can between her thighs.
She has long strawberry blond hair. Her hair pisses me off. It’s thick, and straight and out all the fucking time. It reaches down her back, has no real shape, isn’t flat or have any volume. It’s not really blond, not really light brown and not really red either. It just is and it doesn’t give a fuck what you think of it, just like her.
I wouldn’t say she’s super pretty in the face. Her face is a little rabitty or horsey but its suits her. Just in case you’re thinking that I’m obvi jealous, I’m telling you I’m not. I’ll point out hotness even if the hot person is a bitch.
Francis Alpha Bitch has ivory skin and a spray of freckles on her face dark arching brows and green eyes that look at you like you’re an insect. She wears that kind of make up that’s so fucking natural it’s like dusty. Like is she wearing make up? Is she not? It looks like all she puts on is a little gloss on her lips to make them look all dewy.
What’s fucking annoying are her facial expression. She looks around like she knows she pretty. She bats her eyelashes at the partners and any guy (except Rohan Just a little bit – I think he’s scared of her) and is an utter bitch to all the girls.
She’s from some super posh village, when to some super posh girls boarding school, owns a bunch of horses (You don’t ride?) went to Cambridge (and got a first) Speaks all the posh languages fluently (French, Spanish, Italian and Japanese). Her father has like a million business, her mother is a partner at some big shit law firm from the magic circle.
Although she’s always wearing high-end brands she’s not a good dresser. She’s not a bad dresser either. She’s always in black, beiges or white. Even though she has three Birkins, a bunch of Hermes and Chanel bags, and designer shoes (that she gets custom made for her big feet – size 12!) she always picks the most bland boring and understated designs ever. I’m going to stop sugar quoting it – she’s a basic bitch.
The only thing that isn’t basic about her style is how she smells. Francis Alpha Bitch always smells beautiful. Like roses and other flowers. After lunch almost everyday, she sprays herself with a glass perfume bottle that has a green cap in a very dramatic way. When Erika asked her what the perfume was she looked really shocked.
‘It’s Fleurissimo by Creed? You know? The perfume that Prince Rainier of Monoaco commissioned for Grace Kelly when he married her? How can you not know that?’
Go fuck yourself. Condescending bitch.
I goggled that perfume and a bottle sells for $870. I fainted. She sprays like ten sprays in one go. It’s like she wants to mark her territory but with that amazing expensive scent that makes me think about actually maybe turning lesbian. I’d never be a lesbian though. Vaginas are so gross. I don’t know why guys like them. Guys are fucking gross.
She also does this condescending thing where she drops little seeds of knowledge that we are supposed to know. Like for example, its common knowledge that you’re supposed to pronounce croissant the French way – like you’re having a coughing fit half way through the word. If you pronounce it like a normal English speaking person she’ll be like ‘what? Sorry what’s that?’
Francis Alpha Bitch simple isn’t aware that you exist unless you’re in her way. Then she will do everything in her will to obliterate your self esteem, your performance and your existence all with a look, a word or in an all out public and professional underhanded criticism of your work in a meeting with the partners.
She gets away with it because she’s so fucking good at her job and she knows it. She hardly ever sits at her desk (which isn’t too far from mine) because she’s always being called in to this or that meeting because well… she’s Francis Alpha Bitch.
I have no idea what she thinks of me. She only ever addresses me about work and hasn’t (as of yet) tried to embarrass or criticize me in private or public – when it comes to work or anything else.
Although she did tell D4 about my bad emails or whatever, I think she generally doesn’t give a flying fuck about me, who I am and probably forgot my name. I’m obviously not a threat to her in anyway shape or form. I did notice her stare at me a few times though when she didn’t think I was looking… but I think that’s cause I was eating crisp and my crunching was really loud.
I’m sure you’ve figured out how I came up with the name Francis Alpha Bitch. I literally can’t think of one nice thing to say about her. She’s your archetypal villain in a reality show. She isn’t here to make friends. She’s here to win.
I didn’t make eye contact with her and headed straight to the photocopy room, which is next to the storage room and the toilets. The copies of the contracts that Rohan Little Bit was talking about were there but they hadn’t finished printing. The copier (which if you remember from here is an archaic giant piece of shit) had a paper jam and ran out of paper at the same time. I pulled the jammed piece of paper out and looked around for a stack of papers but there weren’t any. There should be some in the storage room.
I went to the storage room which is actually a huge mess and looked around for A4 sheets of paper. I found a big stack in a ripped open pack and grabbed as many as I could before I heard voiced outside the door.
‘Hey David, come here.’
It was Francis Alpha Bitch
‘Hello, I was just in the toilet.’
It was D4. Fuck he’s awkward. Why would he tell her he was just in the toilet? They were just at the door of the photocopy room.
‘Oh yah, OK, listen so I forgot my bag at your place from the other night,’ she said.
OMG. Dying. OMG. Why would she be at his place the other night? He’s a partner – he’s engaged! This is so good.
‘Right, yeah OK . . . you’d want that back I suppose. I’ve hardly been home but I’m sure the maid’s put it somewhere safe. Shall I bring it tomorrow?’
WTF. Who uses the word maid?
‘I can just pick it up from your house after work or maybe over the weekend?’
OMG. Is her voice all high pitched and girlie right now? OMG. She sounds soooo desperate. Francis Alpha Bitch is so desperate. She wants to go back to his place!
‘Oh yeah, good idea, better if no one at work sees that I gave it to you. Maybe we can organise a time and I can drop it off or get it sent to you –‘
OMG. Emmmbarresing. What A rejection! If I were her I’d just die right now. Just faint Francis Alpha Bitch, just faint. She cut him off
‘We could have lunch over the weekend. I’m free on Saturday at 2 or I can come over to yours again and grab it.’
OMG. Bloody hell, she’s like a blood hound with a sweet girlish voice and a giant perfect body that smell like expensive roses. Bitch doesn’t give up.
‘OK, let’s talk about it later, this looks a bit dodgy, both if us here alone in the copy room,’ he said sounding super serious.
‘Right of course. People are such gossips. I’m in the meeting room, working on the case. We can talk there if you want. I’ll leave now and you can leave after a few minutes so it doesn’t look dodgy.’
OMG. She sounded super flirty when she said that. Even though I can’t see I’m sure she added like a weird girlie smile. Maybe she shrugged one shoulder up to her cheek too. That’s what I’d do and if I want to be extra flirty I’ll bite my bottom lip and if I want to make it extra obvious I’ll poke my tongue out and bite it. Why are girls so fucking weird and crazy?
I heard Francis Alpha Bitch walk away, stomping her giant feet in those custom made designer shoes. D4 is probably still standing there being all serious and awkward counting how long until he can walk back. Pedantic weirdo. As soon as I hear him walk away I’ll leave the storage room.
Then there he was in front of the doorway to the storage room, staring at me, shocked for a split second and then furious for another second, embarrassed the next second and now without an expression except the same, serious no expression expression that is so stiff upper lip.
I suppose one of us should say something. So I did.
‘Hi! I was just getting some papers for the copier!’
I wasn’t smug or bitchy (though I had every right to be). I wasn’t nervous or worried (though I probably should be). I was just my normal, happy go lucky, professional self. But he knew that I knew and I knew that he knew that I knew.
I walked out of the storage room and he took a step back, his bands behind him. I walked in to the photo copy room, which is just as small and cramped as the storage room, put the new papers in and pressed start. The papers were printing. There were just ten more pages to go.
D4 was outside the photocopy room, just standing there. I could see him from the corner of my eye. I’m pretty sure he was staring at me, or at nothing. Should I hum to seem more nonchalant? OK. I hummed a little and gathered the papers that were already printed really quickly. Finally the last ten papers were out. I gathered them up with the rest and walked out of the photocopy room.
Don’t make eye contact. Don’t make eye contact. Don’t make eye contact. Fuck I made eye contact. OK. Don’t be nice, he wants to fire you. Don’t be nice, he wants to fire you. Don’t be nice, he wants to fire you.
‘See yah!’ I said and walked around him and out into the hallway.
‘Er- wait hang on a minute I . . .’
Fucking run for it. And I did.