Happy hour never began until 8 PM. Leaving your desk earlier was a sign of weakness. Un-seriousness. An interest in staying in your current position forever. But when it got going, it quickly got silly. Now ice was tinkling in the glasses and everyone was decompressing fast.
I was standing with my co-workers. Shelly was a slim, athletic brunette with a huge work ethic. She would work her way up or die trying. Toni was the gorgeous, brilliant, but manipulative one. I expected her to fuck her way to the top. Betty had a nice face, but she was frumpy and lumpy. I expected her to be a big success. She was my problem solver, which made her invaluable if not easy to look at.
I was two years senior to them, so I was the nominal leader on group projects. But in our giant meritocracy, any of us could crater, and any of us could zoom ahead. It made everyone edgy.
"I hear ya goin' to de islands next weekend, mon," said Shelley in not-very-good mock-Jamaican. I had been planning to spend the long weekend with my intended fiancée, Tiffany. I had bought the ring.
"Yeah...no. She just joined the other team," I said. "She knew I was getting serious and she thought it was time to announce. You know, to save me the anguish, right?"
"You're better off without her," said Toni. "What are you doing tonight?" She eyed me speculatively, like a lottery ticket.
Shelley had already started talking work with a colleague. Betty was the only one available to save me from Toni. It wasn't easy talking to her because she was constantly hunched over and looking at her shoes. She gave me a little smile and a chaste, arm's length pat, like I had just missed a foul shot.
"I really could have used some more notice," I whined.
"I'm really sorry," she said. "Why don't you go anyway? That place has a rep for being pretty wild. You could drown your sorrows and find a new friend."
I said I wasn't sure I could turn my emotions around fast enough. "I think I need a little tea and sympathy before I move on. I might just fly home." She said she understood, and we parted company after a few more kind words.
But later, as I was leaving, Betty materialized at my elbow and walked me out. We both lived nearby -- a necessity with our work schedules -- and we strolled through the city gloom in companionable silence. The rush hour traffic had faded and the evening drunks were coming out. She stood straighter as we stretched our legs, but unfortunately it just made her look pigeon-breasted.
We started talking about Tiffany, and after listening patiently to my story for a block or two she asked whether I had really felt Tiffany was the one. I considered that kind of impertinent, but it started me thinking. Tiffany had all the right superficial attributes. Beautiful. Pretty smart. Wealthy family. Good schools and connections. Excellent tennis. My parents hoped and expected I would marry her. She'd fit right in. Except for the gay part, I supposed. Was she a soulmate? Maybe someday.
"Hard to say," I admitted. "I don't want to dump on her. I really think this wasn't a choice she controlled. She was pretty distraught. She wished me well. But we had different interests, and understandably she seemed lukewarm in the sack."
We paused where our routes parted. "Would you like to come up to my place for a quick drink?" Betty asked. "Maybe a little company would do you some good right now."
I really didn't want to get involved, especially with a sack of potatoes like Betty. But to be nice, I accepted, despite our draconian non-fraternization policies. Also, I really could use the company.
And she seemed so innocuous.
She lived in two rooms in a stylish glass tower. She pointed me toward a liquor store and asked me to pick up a six pack while she took a few minutes to change.
I knocked exactly a few minutes later and heard a musical "Just a minute." But when the door swung open it revealed a creature of total, cosmic gorgeousness: big boobs, boyish hips, long, long legs, wavy golden hair that fell down her back, and a face to die for. Brilliant blue eyes. Fantastic smile. All wrapped in a tight tee, tiny cut-offs and nothing else I could detect. The outlines of her nipples swung around distractingly in her shirt. I felt weak, but I hastened to introduce myself.
She said, "It's me, silly!"
"...?" Me, being charismatic.
She looked down where I was looking, then looked up with a mischievous smile and shook herself. Her shirt heaved around like things lived in there. "Like them?"
I did. "Who are you and what have you done with my friend Betty?"
"I just cleaned up a little," she said as she ushered me in. "And please call me Liza. We're both Elizabeth, but I like to keep us separate." She took the six pack out of my hand and sat me on her couch. She grabbed two cans and sat at the far end.
"Multiple personalities?" I asked. "Should I run while I can?"
"Same brew, different mug," she said. "You know, don't mix work and play?" She was still having fun with me. She handed over a can. I could definitely detect a little Betty in her movements -- I thought. Economical, assured. Why hadn't I noticed that Betty was graceful?
No, this was impossible.
"But Betty -- Liza - why do you -- how do you -- look so different in the office?" I asked. "God, you could be a movie star. You're the most beautiful creature in the whole company."
"I could also be a weather bimbo, or a sex harassment plaintiff, or the girl that made it on her looks, or the dumb blond. I've been several of those things, and I can tell you it is harder than you would believe to be taken seriously as an attractive woman. So I dress down."
