"The Boss wants to see you."
"What's up?"
I tossed my sponge into a bucket of soapy water, expecting more antagonism from my nemesis. I'd just finished washing a returned car rental when our managing director's personal assistant approached, looking smug. Not a good sign for me.
"Do I look like your secretary?"
She shot me a vicious expression. Although not my greatest fan ever, Tiffany's vitriol felt more toxic today.
"Okay, thanks for letting me know."
There was little point indulging her need for a fight so, I played the United Nations and held my tongue.
Never date colleagues. I vowed not to on arrival at this new job, but Tiffany came on really strong and I pride myself on a chivalrous nature, so I gave it a go, tried hard and failed miserably.
Since our one and only disastrous date, Tiffany was unpleasant towards me. The evening went badly, not because I disliked her. She just wasn't my type, and I wasn't hers either, but the woman desperate to explore me didn't know that.
I was attentive and tried hard to make the evening one she would enjoy, if only to keep the peace at work.
I might as well not have bothered.
I'm fed up investing in relationships that are doomed from the start. Like everyone else, I have a particular natured partner in mind who fits with me. I just can't find her... yet.
I'm comfortable with my sexuality and can't do random, hopeful dating anymore. Finding the right person is something I must concentrate on, but it's difficult when, as I am, you're running away from a big problem, starting afresh.
Tiffany liked the look of me, which isn't the best place to start. As soon as I walked through the car rental yard on my first day, her appreciative stare said it all. I'm ripped, six foot one inches tall and a total gym monster. I groom meticulously and take pride in my appearance. As a nonsmoker and light social drinker, I have no problem turning heads or finding a date, but I have an enormous problem finding the right person.
Tiffany is beautiful, tall, intelligent and with an appealing figure, but I have found that lasting relationships begin in the heart and soul, one's figure and external features are bonuses to a good heart.
Often, girls that look like Tiffany have developed very little personality beyond seeking the wrong sort of attention.
Tiffany didn't approve of my behaviour throughout the date. I opened the door for her at the restaurant, paid attention when she talked about herself, asked questions about her life, played myself down, and even paid the bill. What's not to like?
Well, she found plenty to criticise. The most disturbing feature of my behaviour was my completely boring life on which she commented during our date.
I'd rather pull out my own toenails than swap lives with you.
After the date she became vexed anytime I was close by, but I couldn't help that, us being colleagues and all. She might be the perfect trophy girlfriend in the right hands, but honestly, I'd rather use mine to clean the toilet u-bend without marigold gloves.
I made my way to Kate's office, stopping by our staff changing rooms to compose myself, wondering if I'd done something wrong. Employment probation is a killer, especially when you're a foreigner with a temporary visa arrangement dependent on continued employment.
I was wrapping up my third week and thought everything was going well, convinced that the best version of myself was good enough for the boss, Kate. I needed to keep my job, so paranoia ran rampant while I washed my hands and racked my brains to think what might be amiss.
I felt anxious, partly a result of the way Tiffany delivered my summons but more because of the uncertainty.
Kate took a chance on me. I'm an unknown drifter from overseas, grateful for her confidence, now concerned to have lost it.
They told me I'd interviewed well. Despite Tiffany's opinion of my life, I had experiences to share, although many others I wanted to hide. They offered me the job a week after interviews closed and I started a few days after that.
Her door was open when I arrived at Kate's office, so I leaned forward and rapped its wooden frame with my knuckles.
"Hi, did you ask to see me?"
I waited politely at the door, not passing its threshold until she invited me. It was a conditioned habit for a large part of my life where discipline and respect had been important.
"Come in, Jacob, shut the door and take a seat, please."
Kate didn't look up and continued twisting a strand of her hair using a blue-coloured pencil to shape it beautifully into a tight twirl. She seemed at ease and read intently, so I waited patiently in the rigid back, uncomfortable wooden chair.
The twirl bounced charmingly, and I was mesmerised when Kate started a second one beside it.
