As I mentioned in previous posts, I do a demanding job. Demanding in terms on hours (can easily get up to 70 hours a week, up to 90 when weekends are concerned). Demanding because when you spend such an amount of hours every week working in a room with a team of four-five people, it’s insane (let’s face it, it would be hard to spend so much time with the significant other YOU chose, let alone with co-workers you did not choose). Demanding because it’s a male dominated world.
In this scenario, years ago I found out the only way to survive is have one very close male friend within your co-workers. Someone you can talk to when you need to decompress, someone who can advice you when you’re that close to lose your temper, someone who will take you to a quit zone of the cafeteria when you feel like crying in front of the team. Someone to grab an aperitivo with right after work; someone who shares the office gossip with you, who will laugh with you over the events. In short, someone you can trust.
When I used to work in France, I was based in Lyon, but would often work in Paris as well, and in Paris was my work buddy Kevin. Kevin tried hitting on me when we first met, but then we worked our way to a beautiful friendship.
Then I moved to Milan, it took me a while to make such kind of friendship, and then I met Steve, who also happens to live at 5 minutes walking from my place (therefore, extremely favorable location for sharing drinks after work and for walking me home after nights out).
Steve is not the typical guy I get friends with. A bit too obsessed with soccer in first place, it’s really hard to make him talk about himself (read: it takes a few more beers than I can drink on a school night LOL). But when it rains like in these days, and nobody’s up for doing things at night, and I get depressed, Steve is a sure call. So I called him last night and sure thing we hit three bars after going back to his place for a smoke. Yes, I don’t usually smoke, but we both really felt like it, so we just followed the flow.
But even so, Steve does not understand things like the guys popping out I mentioned recently.
Here’s the thing. Back in early 2006, when I had just moved to France, my old colleagues from Italy came for a job training of a couple of days and of course we went out. Among the others, there was this new guy really good looking, that all the girls from my old office talked about. Long story short, I got drunk and brought him home with me that night.
Then we had a short story, I paid him visits in Milan, and it didn’t work out. Sex with him was wild in a way that didn’t fit with me: I would wake up at night with him pushing his way through my legs, and honestly it was more scary than exciting. Anyway, he quickly told me he wasn’t committed and he was only interested in sex. Plus, I also realized I didn’t really like him as a guy, we shared no interests and he basically didn’t do anything outside work.
He pretty much treated me like dirt. The only upside: I was the one lucky bitch that had gotten into screwing the one gorgeous guy of my old office. Blah.
Then he disappeared, got a girlfriend, befriended me on facebook: in short, we haven’t talked in over 3 years. Two days ago I got a message from him (on FB), asking me whether it was true I had moved back to Milan. Of course he went on asking me if I was single, and when I said no he inquired whether I lived alone or not.
Shortly after, he asked me out for drinks, and he even wrote “How come we didn’t talk in so long?”
Now the real answer is “Because you’re an asshole”
Instead, I’m playing the game.
Because I want revenge. I’m a bad bitch, and I want him to want me and to believe he can have me, just to show him that I would never ever even CONSIDER kissing him in the whole rest of my life.
So I’m having drinks with him next week. I need to get skinny by then!!!!
Back to Steve, he happens to know this guy, because they’re from the same town. And I tried to explain him this situation, but of course he did not understand me, because hey, he’s a man after all! But he still cracked me up last night. The only downside, I drank two beers. At least I was still
126.3 this morning.
Lastly, I re-read a couple of
ana regzig's posts. I miss the girl so much, and I still wonder what happened to her. I hope so much she just got fed up with blogging!
I have the feeling he doesn't believe it anymore.
except shorter, and younger. Needless to say, he’s known as The Pirate.
