A Snippet
Bloody fuck! Can’t anyone walk normally anymore? It seems as though everyone is mashed on some sort of disorienting drug and cannot walk a straight line! Where can I find some?
Okay I just need to relax. Breathe in, breath out.
That seems about right. It is not that I feel the world revolves around me, just that we need to be a little more considerate of what the hell is going on. When did we not start saying, “Excuse me, pardon me, oh I am very sorry, thank you…”?
Silly me, hello there, my name is Brooke Anne Gauthier. How do you do? I have decided to start this off, a little different. I am going to let you know more about me, and hopefully we can reach some sort of understanding. This journey is not going to be pretty, or even clear-cut for that matter. So if you could just bear with me, it should be rather amusing.
Where should I begin? Oh, I know, alright. So I was sitting there, sipping some warm mocha, reading the newspaper. All of a sudden, straight out of a GQ magazine sits this gorgeous man by the table directly across from me. I got a little edgy as I switched my right crossed leg with the other. He was directly in tune with his literature so I helped myself to a further glance. How I love a man that can dress himself. His khakis were clean and wrinkle free, his shoes I presumed matched his belt. His hair, I couldn't help but imagine my hands running through. Holy hell! What am I doing? I have a partner….but my thoughts swiftly changed as my eyes peered over to this “mocha man” of my dreams. He has to be gay! That’s it. No man could look so good and dress just as well and not be straight. No matter the case he will be straight in my mind. I should leave, I am getting myself where over my head. As I casually stood up and gathered my belongings I could feel his eyes checking me out. So I walked a little smoother, flipped my hair back, and looked a little busy.
Farther down the block I let out a sigh and wished such a man could be mine. Don’t get me wrong I love the man that I am with, maybe not love, but I care for him much. We have alright conversation, love to cuddle, and talk about the future. Now that I think about it, it seems rather dry, but doable.
My lunch break was almost over and I headed towards the office. Assistant of the Head of the Creative Department, yes that would be me. It is a pretty shitty sort of job but it works and I have to face that it could be worse. Sometimes I think I would be happier walking down the streets of England in a pineapple mascot suit with a sign that read,
“Shoot me and get lunch half off!” Okay, I apologize, that was a bit rude, but the God honest truth. Being the assistant of somebody is like being there personal nanny, ass-
wiper, ass-kisser, and you get the picture. Someday it will all pay off and I can have an assistant. As soon as I enter the office I hear a barking command from Jacob, The Head.
“Brooke! Can you please get Perrti in my office and bring the first drafts of the ads for the Mitchell’s order. Jacob is going to shit a brick if we don’t deliver something better than yesterday’s horseshit!”
Jacob, yeah he is a dandy character. He only has one other boss above him, so he can basically do whatever the hell he wants. Nothing is perfect, but that’s business. Oh and the Mitchell’s dealio, it is a company that is trying to sell a new type of fuel for vehicles and it is up to us to make a design concept that will get every Joe and Flo to buy it. Like I said, I’d rather be in that pineapple suit.
Now let’s fast forward to that evening.
I arrive home, tired as hell and wanting only one thing, sleep. My boyfriend, Liam lives with me. It was a very mutual and thought out process. Of course, my parents do not know, they would be livid. After the noise from my dropped keys in the dish subsided, the apartment was abnormally silent. Perhaps Liam stepped out. A bubble bath enters my mind, as I imagine my body heavenly dipping underneath the bubbles. I push open my bedroom door, and there he is. Something isn’t right. He looks frazzled and flushed.
“What the hell is going on Liam?”
“Um, what do you mean Brooke?” he looks around the room.
“Well, what are you up to, you don’t seem right?”
He walks up to me, sweating like a whore in church.
“Brooke, you’ve been working really hard lately.”
As he says this he brings me in the bathroom.
“Liam, a bubble bath! You read my mind, honestly!”
I turned to look at him, and kiss him to death. Then Mocha Man’s face takes over Liam’s. For an instant I felt an overwhelming guilt. Liam is a great man, sure our relationship seems at a standstill, but, when it’s good, it couldn’t be better. I enter the bath. I am left in complete solitude and told that if I needed anything at all…
This is supposed to be a time of relaxation, but my mind wanders to thoughts of my family; that is a story within itself. Everyone in my family talks about when I will marry. The pressure is on and I am starting to run out of excuses for not attending family functions of which I will be put in the most awkward position while they talk about me like I am not even there. Okay, breathe!
“Brooke is a wonderful catch.”
“I cannot believe she hasn’t found a nice man with a nice job yet.”
“She won’t be young forever; it’s time to start a family.”
That is about the time I zone out and take a few more longs swigs from my wine glass. As if I could drink the comments down. They don’t understand the life of a working woman today. You do not have to time to put on a selection process for the right man.
Most of the women in my family ended up marrying out of school and popping out children to make their lives more interesting.
It’s a Friday night, I realize. I used to go out and give the town hell and now I just look forward to a good night’s rest. That is exactly what I did, peacefully and contently next to Liam.
Weekends are for catching up on the personal tasks I cannot do during the week. I wake up, and mentally put together my list of things to be done. I am in the process of revamping my apartment, so I decide the first place to go is an interior décor store. Upon entering the store, I see this ravishing throw blanket. As I pulled it off the shelf, I turned around in a hasty manner, and bumped into someone. Without looking I said,
“Sorry, excuse me.” And then I looked up. It was him, my mocha man from the café I had seen yesterday. What are the bloody odds of this?
“No worries, my fault. Hey didn’t I see you yesterday afternoon? How could I forget, you were wearing that crème yellow suit, with your hair up,” my mocha man said with the sultriest of smiles.
Somebody pinch me, quick. This cannot be fucking happening. Seize the moment silly woman.
“Oh yes of course, I remember.” I said with a smile back.
“Name’s Nigel,” he says as he lifts my hand to his face to kiss.
“Brooke Ann.”
“What are your plans tonight,” he asks without a single blink or hesitation.
I look away quickly, thinking of Liam.
“It’s okay if you are busy; I have this social event to attend and would love a foxy lady like yourself to accompany me. I mean no harm, just want to give you my number so if you change your mind, give me a jingle.”
I am completely and most utterly in a state of shock and denial. He hands me his number, I smile at him and he is off.
I stand there like a wanker with that throw blanket still in my hand. I look to my left and to my right without turning my head. I let out the biggest sigh when he is out of sight. A taste of mocha is in the back of my throat, that could not have just fucking happened.
I decide to take Nigel up on such an invite. Once I get home, I realize that Liam isn’t home. After dolling myself up, and putting on “The Shoes” I write a quick note to Liam stating, “Girls night out!! Be back late. I cannot thank you enough for the bubble bath.” After gathering some things in my purse, I open the apartment door to leave and Liam just happened to be standing there with his keys in his hand coming into the apartment. I freeze.
“Shit, shit, shit, fuck, fuck, fuck!” runs through my head.
He is oblivious to the fact that I am dressed up from heel to hair.
“Sweetheart,” he says, “let’s go we haven’t been out on the town in a while. I have a party all lined up for us!” In his excited splendor he grabs my hand and we are off.
“Fabulous, I am more ready than ever!” I am such a dirty liar.
We leave. I feel half annoyed and half relieved. Although once we get to the party, all thoughts of Nigel leave my head only to come back a second later. There we all were standing, Liam, Nigel, and my embarrassed ass of a self.
Well, isn’t this the night of fucking surprises?
“Nigel! Buddy you little…” Liam yells and practically tackles Nigel to the ground.
“What the…” I am mortified, they know each other. Apparently they were old college friends. Liam being the decent man that he his, introduces Nigel and I, for a second time. Nigel looks in disbelief but covers himself.
“Very nice to meet you Brooke.”
“Nice to meet you as well Nigel.”
I excuse myself from the chatter and slam all the champagne insight. Yes, I know, I am in idiot in the rawest form, only to take it the next extreme. A “few” hours and bottles of champagne later I black out. I wake up not knowing where the hell I am. This could possibly be the worst hangover of my life. I soon realize that I am not in my apartment, and that is not Liam next to me. I scurry out of that bed so fast. The hangover is worse than I had thought.
“Nigel?!”
“Oh, good morning Brooke. Don’t be alarmed I can explain everything. First off, we did not do anything last night. I simply brought you home because Liam, well Liam went home with somebody else. You were quite the party animal last night; I couldn’t just leave you there.”
I have no emotion besides the fact that I am still shocked out of my knickers. I cannot possibly absorb all of this information, analyze it, and then take action in this state of post-drunk being. It is hard to even gather up what I should say to him next.
“Thank you Nigel. I must leave.”
I call for a cab, get into my apartment, wash my face, and climb into my own bed. All action must wait until my headache is gone and I can function like a normal human. Just think, this all came to be from sipping on my mocha just a few days before. I roll my eyes and pass out. Only me.
Okay I just need to relax. Breathe in, breath out.
That seems about right. It is not that I feel the world revolves around me, just that we need to be a little more considerate of what the hell is going on. When did we not start saying, “Excuse me, pardon me, oh I am very sorry, thank you…”?
Silly me, hello there, my name is Brooke Anne Gauthier. How do you do? I have decided to start this off, a little different. I am going to let you know more about me, and hopefully we can reach some sort of understanding. This journey is not going to be pretty, or even clear-cut for that matter. So if you could just bear with me, it should be rather amusing.
Where should I begin? Oh, I know, alright. So I was sitting there, sipping some warm mocha, reading the newspaper. All of a sudden, straight out of a GQ magazine sits this gorgeous man by the table directly across from me. I got a little edgy as I switched my right crossed leg with the other. He was directly in tune with his literature so I helped myself to a further glance. How I love a man that can dress himself. His khakis were clean and wrinkle free, his shoes I presumed matched his belt. His hair, I couldn't help but imagine my hands running through. Holy hell! What am I doing? I have a partner….but my thoughts swiftly changed as my eyes peered over to this “mocha man” of my dreams. He has to be gay! That’s it. No man could look so good and dress just as well and not be straight. No matter the case he will be straight in my mind. I should leave, I am getting myself where over my head. As I casually stood up and gathered my belongings I could feel his eyes checking me out. So I walked a little smoother, flipped my hair back, and looked a little busy.
Farther down the block I let out a sigh and wished such a man could be mine. Don’t get me wrong I love the man that I am with, maybe not love, but I care for him much. We have alright conversation, love to cuddle, and talk about the future. Now that I think about it, it seems rather dry, but doable.
My lunch break was almost over and I headed towards the office. Assistant of the Head of the Creative Department, yes that would be me. It is a pretty shitty sort of job but it works and I have to face that it could be worse. Sometimes I think I would be happier walking down the streets of England in a pineapple mascot suit with a sign that read,
“Shoot me and get lunch half off!” Okay, I apologize, that was a bit rude, but the God honest truth. Being the assistant of somebody is like being there personal nanny, ass-
wiper, ass-kisser, and you get the picture. Someday it will all pay off and I can have an assistant. As soon as I enter the office I hear a barking command from Jacob, The Head.
“Brooke! Can you please get Perrti in my office and bring the first drafts of the ads for the Mitchell’s order. Jacob is going to shit a brick if we don’t deliver something better than yesterday’s horseshit!”
Jacob, yeah he is a dandy character. He only has one other boss above him, so he can basically do whatever the hell he wants. Nothing is perfect, but that’s business. Oh and the Mitchell’s dealio, it is a company that is trying to sell a new type of fuel for vehicles and it is up to us to make a design concept that will get every Joe and Flo to buy it. Like I said, I’d rather be in that pineapple suit.
Now let’s fast forward to that evening.
I arrive home, tired as hell and wanting only one thing, sleep. My boyfriend, Liam lives with me. It was a very mutual and thought out process. Of course, my parents do not know, they would be livid. After the noise from my dropped keys in the dish subsided, the apartment was abnormally silent. Perhaps Liam stepped out. A bubble bath enters my mind, as I imagine my body heavenly dipping underneath the bubbles. I push open my bedroom door, and there he is. Something isn’t right. He looks frazzled and flushed.
“What the hell is going on Liam?”
“Um, what do you mean Brooke?” he looks around the room.
“Well, what are you up to, you don’t seem right?”
He walks up to me, sweating like a whore in church.
“Brooke, you’ve been working really hard lately.”
As he says this he brings me in the bathroom.
“Liam, a bubble bath! You read my mind, honestly!”
I turned to look at him, and kiss him to death. Then Mocha Man’s face takes over Liam’s. For an instant I felt an overwhelming guilt. Liam is a great man, sure our relationship seems at a standstill, but, when it’s good, it couldn’t be better. I enter the bath. I am left in complete solitude and told that if I needed anything at all…
This is supposed to be a time of relaxation, but my mind wanders to thoughts of my family; that is a story within itself. Everyone in my family talks about when I will marry. The pressure is on and I am starting to run out of excuses for not attending family functions of which I will be put in the most awkward position while they talk about me like I am not even there. Okay, breathe!
“Brooke is a wonderful catch.”
“I cannot believe she hasn’t found a nice man with a nice job yet.”
“She won’t be young forever; it’s time to start a family.”
That is about the time I zone out and take a few more longs swigs from my wine glass. As if I could drink the comments down. They don’t understand the life of a working woman today. You do not have to time to put on a selection process for the right man.
Most of the women in my family ended up marrying out of school and popping out children to make their lives more interesting.
It’s a Friday night, I realize. I used to go out and give the town hell and now I just look forward to a good night’s rest. That is exactly what I did, peacefully and contently next to Liam.
Weekends are for catching up on the personal tasks I cannot do during the week. I wake up, and mentally put together my list of things to be done. I am in the process of revamping my apartment, so I decide the first place to go is an interior décor store. Upon entering the store, I see this ravishing throw blanket. As I pulled it off the shelf, I turned around in a hasty manner, and bumped into someone. Without looking I said,
“Sorry, excuse me.” And then I looked up. It was him, my mocha man from the café I had seen yesterday. What are the bloody odds of this?
“No worries, my fault. Hey didn’t I see you yesterday afternoon? How could I forget, you were wearing that crème yellow suit, with your hair up,” my mocha man said with the sultriest of smiles.
Somebody pinch me, quick. This cannot be fucking happening. Seize the moment silly woman.
“Oh yes of course, I remember.” I said with a smile back.
“Name’s Nigel,” he says as he lifts my hand to his face to kiss.
“Brooke Ann.”
“What are your plans tonight,” he asks without a single blink or hesitation.
I look away quickly, thinking of Liam.
“It’s okay if you are busy; I have this social event to attend and would love a foxy lady like yourself to accompany me. I mean no harm, just want to give you my number so if you change your mind, give me a jingle.”
I am completely and most utterly in a state of shock and denial. He hands me his number, I smile at him and he is off.
I stand there like a wanker with that throw blanket still in my hand. I look to my left and to my right without turning my head. I let out the biggest sigh when he is out of sight. A taste of mocha is in the back of my throat, that could not have just fucking happened.
I decide to take Nigel up on such an invite. Once I get home, I realize that Liam isn’t home. After dolling myself up, and putting on “The Shoes” I write a quick note to Liam stating, “Girls night out!! Be back late. I cannot thank you enough for the bubble bath.” After gathering some things in my purse, I open the apartment door to leave and Liam just happened to be standing there with his keys in his hand coming into the apartment. I freeze.
“Shit, shit, shit, fuck, fuck, fuck!” runs through my head.
He is oblivious to the fact that I am dressed up from heel to hair.
“Sweetheart,” he says, “let’s go we haven’t been out on the town in a while. I have a party all lined up for us!” In his excited splendor he grabs my hand and we are off.
“Fabulous, I am more ready than ever!” I am such a dirty liar.
We leave. I feel half annoyed and half relieved. Although once we get to the party, all thoughts of Nigel leave my head only to come back a second later. There we all were standing, Liam, Nigel, and my embarrassed ass of a self.
Well, isn’t this the night of fucking surprises?
“Nigel! Buddy you little…” Liam yells and practically tackles Nigel to the ground.
“What the…” I am mortified, they know each other. Apparently they were old college friends. Liam being the decent man that he his, introduces Nigel and I, for a second time. Nigel looks in disbelief but covers himself.
“Very nice to meet you Brooke.”
“Nice to meet you as well Nigel.”
I excuse myself from the chatter and slam all the champagne insight. Yes, I know, I am in idiot in the rawest form, only to take it the next extreme. A “few” hours and bottles of champagne later I black out. I wake up not knowing where the hell I am. This could possibly be the worst hangover of my life. I soon realize that I am not in my apartment, and that is not Liam next to me. I scurry out of that bed so fast. The hangover is worse than I had thought.
“Nigel?!”
“Oh, good morning Brooke. Don’t be alarmed I can explain everything. First off, we did not do anything last night. I simply brought you home because Liam, well Liam went home with somebody else. You were quite the party animal last night; I couldn’t just leave you there.”
I have no emotion besides the fact that I am still shocked out of my knickers. I cannot possibly absorb all of this information, analyze it, and then take action in this state of post-drunk being. It is hard to even gather up what I should say to him next.
“Thank you Nigel. I must leave.”
I call for a cab, get into my apartment, wash my face, and climb into my own bed. All action must wait until my headache is gone and I can function like a normal human. Just think, this all came to be from sipping on my mocha just a few days before. I roll my eyes and pass out. Only me.
1 comment:
Bloody Fuck! What a great way to start a story. Really grabs the reader, something I definitely approve of. I enjoyed the story, and felt you captured the character quite nicely.
Some parts felt a bit rushed; for example, the sudden transition to the party and the revelation that the two guys knew each other happened in less than a sentence, I believe.
Also, not to nitpick, but Spellcheck is there for a reason.
On the whole, though, I enjoyed reading it. Her dilemma with the two guys played out nicely - she's thinking of this other guy, and then her current boyfriend draws her a bubble bath! Do keep writing.
- Tim
PS - is this the entire story, or is there more to come?
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