Chapter 17
Interviews are a lot like women; you can spend months second guessing what was said, the body language involved, who did what, who said what and why you’ve heard nothing in days but fundamentally, there isn’t a lot you can do about them. They either like you or they don’t, it’s as simple as that.
Rachel told me it would take some time to make a decision (because they had quite a number of candidates supposedly) but I had always been someone who pointlessly worried after an hour, regardless of the process being spelt out to me beforehand so I was beginning to get all sorry for myself and downbeat at not being given the role when I got a random text from her. It was a pretty generic one, thanking me for taking the time to interview with SBL Marketing, informing me that the selection process was still on-going and that she would let me know of the outcome as soon as the decision had been made. I responded politely, as you would, thanking her in return, of course, and telling her how grateful I was to have the opportunity to interview for such a great company and how I sincerely hoped the job would be mine; the kind of gushing text I guessed most of the candidates would reply with.
It was all very formal and sycophantic and naturally I presumed all the interviewees would, at some point, get the same treatment but, surprisingly, ten minutes after my reply I received a second text from Rachel, this one a little less formal, a touch friendlier on a personal level and all together even more surprising than the first.
I’ll keep my fingers crossed that we can ‘open the books for you’.
Now, it would have been stupid of me to presume this was a good sign but the more I thought about it the more I pretty much convinced myself that it was. Before the interview had got underway I had loosely mentioned to her I was a lover of The Sopranos which, being a fan herself, she was thoroughly delighted at, so the ‘open the books’ comment, if I was on the right track, was a reference to the show. Also, the fact she started with “keep my fingers crossed”, kind of meant she wanted me to get the job and being one of two on the interview panel, arguably I must have been half way to victory. However, the most intriguing thing of all and the part I was most unsure of, was did she want me to get the job or did she want me to get the job. Would she be ‘opening the books’ for me in another capacity? It was a long shot I know, gheez I’d only met her for forty five minutes and she could have merely been the friendly sort, but, as you might have already guessed, I can’t stop my mind from wondering when it comes to the opposite sex.
Either way, I wasn’t about to ask her outright or even hint at the mere thought of it, after all, imagine the fall out if I was wrong. She was still a woman with my employment future in her hands so it would have been a bit daft to start firing sex texts her way after wrongly surmising she wanted me to. If I had the balls I could have been far more forward but I’d read signals wrong in the past, just look at what happened with Jess, and I didn’t fancy heading back to the Benefits Office just to hear Margery’s lunch order so I felt it far more prudent to maintain a level of professionalism rather than send her pictures of my penis.
It would be an honour to become a ‘made guy’ with SBL.
The reply was nothing outrageous, if anything it was a bit boring but sure enough, a few minutes after, I got another response from Rachel.
Ha ha, your goomah will be happy if you are!
Now, a goomah in the Mafia world is a mistress and although I couldn’t be sure if she was enquiring about my sordid social life I did think there was a very small possibility she was questioning my single status but she’d have to be pretty gutsy to do so after such a short period of time, or slightly wacko, so I continued down a safeguarded path.
No goomah for me I’m afraid but, being a made guy, would I own up to it anyway?
I’d read a few relationship manuals over the years and had often been privy to James’s ‘advice’ on women so I had this misplaced notion that all I had to do to keep them sweet was ask a few questions and pretend to take interest occasionally.
Maybe not but only time will tell. Anyway, good luck and speak soon.
So much for the advice. Fair enough, she couldn’t very well text me all day long but she could have thrown me a bone so I was a little disappointed she finished the conversation. Still, Rachel, inadvertently or not, had sown a seed in my mind and the job suddenly seemed even more worthwhile.
I didn’t have long to mull over my dilemma though because that very afternoon I had a phone call from Gandalf offering me the position. As you might expect, I was ecstatic at the news. I’m pretty sure, out of excitement, I told him to ‘fuck off’ but he probably didn’t me hear through all the crying. I’d never been given a job that I really wanted before so as soon as I could, I spread the news to those who cared; mainly my parents and my grandma. James seemed pleased for all of two seconds until the latest BBC weathergirl caught his eye and he worryingly stared at her for ten longing and unnerving seconds before enquiring as to when the weather became ‘so bloody erotic’ and disappearing upstairs.
Maybe I shouldn’t have but my fingers kind of worked independently of my brain and I figured a harmless text to Rachel wouldn’t do any damage, after all, it was partly thanks to her I’d got the job or so I thought. Months later I would learn it was because the first choice turned it down to go travelling whilst the second was arrested for drug abuse. That left only me and as they were desperate I got the nod but, surprisingly, that didn’t dishearten me one bit. By the time I found out I was happily in employment and life had become a whole lot different for me so being third and last choice mattered very little when the news eventually broke.
Hi Rachel. I’m sure you know but the ‘books have been opened’ for me so I just wanted to say thank you.
Annoyingly, I had to wait for a response but when the magical ten minute mark had been breached she replied, as cheeky and entertaining as before, fuelling my suspicions further.
That’s great Terence although, you are right, I did have a sneaky suspicion you might get it. You can pay me back by buying me a skinny latte every morning!
Never being one for fancy cocktails myself, I wasn’t entirely sure what a skinny latte was so wasn’t about to spend my hard earned money on buying her one but it was fun to pretend nonetheless.
Oh yes, of course, anything else? A skinny latte doesn’t seem enough considering you’ve given me a job.
But after I sent that I started worrying I was being too cheeky. Her texts were still fairly tentative and spelt out in full so I didn’t truly know whether or not she was being friendly out of duty or friendly out of choice and I feared I’d over done it before getting a signal either way.
Maybe a fudge doughnut on a Wednesday might just cover it. We can renegotiate the terms after your first few weeks here.
I had never been an expert at text chat. Picking up signals in person was tough enough so trying to decipher what they were by mobile phone was virtually impossible. ‘Fudge Doughnut’ could have translated into a great deal or it simply could have been a fudge doughnut but either way, there was huge margin for error if I got it wrong.
When it came to women, I usually took the safest route, acted like a gentleman and waited for an invite to be the opposite although where had that got me in the past? Second choice behind my best friend and a quick rub with a young Mum whose window I had smeared with excrement. It wasn’t the greatest of endorsements but although being a gentleman was a thankless task most of the time, it’s hard to be a stone cold sex god when it’s not in your DNA.
Is this a shake down? It sounds like I’ll have to spend half my wages on buying you treats.
It’s not a shake down, just look at it as enhancing your career. You keep me sweet and you’ll be fine.
I started to tingle a little bit at that last line.
Now it sounds like bribery but I guess I’ll do whatever it takes to get on in the company.
There was definitely innuendo in my reply but the great thing abo
ut innuendo is you can deny all knowledge of it when things go wrong.
I’m not sure I like the sound of that but each to their own. So, are you going to celebrate the news?
Probably not, maybe just a few drinks. It’s really only big news to me.
Oh, that’s a shame. You need 2 have a few drinks at least.
I couldn’t help but think she was angling for a drinks invite but for all I knew she could have been married with seventeen kids, so I stayed true to myself and text back with,
Yes, I probably will. I think it’s worth celebrating even if others don’t.
Good for you. You’ll fit in well here if you like 2 socialise. There’s always plenty of opportunity 2 get 2 know each other outside of work.
I had to fight an incredible urge not to ask her if that meant bonking co-worker’s brains out.
Fantastic, my last place wasn’t the best for that type of thing so it’ll be a welcome change.
The trouble is there are probably more women than men here so I hope that’s not going 2 be a problem for you?
There it was; the smiley face. I wasn’t sure how I viewed smiley faces anymore. In years gone by I had despised them, I felt they were for teachers trying to impress their six year old pupils but emoticons had become ingrained in every day society and non-more than the bloody smiley face so it probably wasn’t reasonable for me to judge someone on a single one strategically placed at the end of a text message. If she started blasting out animal emoji’s and tat like that then I’d definitely have been disappointed because that would have been a step too far but one smiley face I guess I could handle.
Oh dear, that is awful news. How will I cope?
I’m sure you’ll manage, most single guys love working here.
Well I don’t blame them; I’ve always worked in places where there have been about fifty men to every woman.
Sounds a bit of a sausage fest 2 me. You’ll be like a kid in a sweet shop at SBL then!
The sausage fest comment startled me a bit but, you know, it was refreshing that she was so loose and free to say what she pleased. I had beaten around the bush with my replies, being all friendly and polite, but she was starting to mix it up a touch and I guessed that was only a good sign.
Well it’s certainly sounds better than a sausage fest that’s for sure. I’ll be sure to behave myself although I don’t want to become the company letch in my first week do I?
Ha ha, no u don’t. Nobody likes a letch.
I was quietly relieved that she put a ‘ha ha’ instead of a ‘LOL’. I was coming round to smiley faces but doubted I’d ever be used to LOL’s, largely because it didn’t really mean anything. It was more of a description than anything else and I didn’t like anyone describing their laugh to me. Unfortunately the conversation had met a new sticky point because she had replied with a statement rather than a question and was void of leading content so I was a bit confused as to what to do.
I could have ignored her completely, trying to be cool and aloof but that had never been my style, I was far too needy and desperate to do that. I was never rude, not to women I potentially fancied anyway, although the ironic thing was I probably would have been knee deep in mammary glands if I had been that way inclined. By and large, in the initial phase of courtship, the majority of men and women love a chase so you have to give them one to get their attention. Reply to every message and answer every call and you’re making the job a lot harder for yourself, at least that’s what I had been told anyway. Still, knowing it and acting it were two different things which is why I always persevered with the safer option.
I’ll be on my best behaviour I promise.
Oh, that’s no fun, ur allowed 2b naughty every now & then.
Was she teasing? Was this her way of psychologically playing with me or was she simply being friendly?
Oh well if you allow it then I will be but you get the blame, not me.
I welcome it so, by all means, go ahead. So, when is ur actual start date?
Two weeks Monday I believe. Not had official confirmation yet but that was the provisional date.
Not long then. What u going 2 do with ur time till then? Feel free 2 ask any ? b4hand.
Sod it I thought. I needed to go in for the kill, what was a job after all and James did once tell me that ‘The God’s cannot help those who do not seize opportunities,’ or something similarly as pompous as that. I couldn’t help but feel she was directing me, that maybe she wanted me to take the initiative. I’d never done so before but there’s a first time for everything right and maybe this was it, regardless of how important the job was to me. Besides, I doubted I could get sacked for asking someone for a drink although, at the same time, I wasn’t technically in employment with SBL so would it be getting the sack or would it simply be a choice not to employ the big perv who textually assaults the woman who interviewed him? Either way, I was soon to find out.
I think I’ll watch Sopranos again to keep me busy! It might be useful to find out more about SBL...if u weren’t busy maybe we could meet to go through a few things?
I waited with anticipation.
I’m not sure that would be appropriate Terence, I don’t usually mix business with pleasure.
Cripes, what had I done?? I had clearly read the signals wrong...again. This was Jess mark two only this time I would lose a job as well as my self-esteem. I was bloody useless; I was a car crash with women. Even Elton John had more luck with them than I did.
Oh yes of course. That’s not what I was gettig at, I justt meant as a help to me,. not as a date or anything.
I could barely spell I was so flustered but just as I sent it I simultaneously received another text from Rachel.
Ha ha, I’m only messing around. That wud b good.
So did I read the signs right? Which text was she replying to? It was all very confusing. Was this now a date? Was it a work’s thing? Was she really okay with it? Should I back off to save face in case she wasn’t?
Okay great, only if that’s okay with you?
As I released the pressure off the send button, another text simultaneously came back.
Oh right, that’s fine. We can do it when you start work if you prefer?
I was getting severely confused at that point. Were we at crossed wires? Whose turn was it to text? What followed was a painstaking ten minutes of messaging silence. I typed out another text with the full intention of sending it but reminded myself of James’s advice; that bombarding women with too many was a sure fire way of putting an end to any moderate chance of sex, so I deleted it and waited for her to make the next move despite my increasing impatience. In the past I would have sent message after message, like a damn stalker, desperation shining through. Consequentially, I would end up alone in my room playing with myself out of habit but I was determined to change my luck which is why I chose not to follow old habits and instead I put the phone down, changed into my running gear and went outside into the cold, chilly air. The last time I had been jogging Gordon Brown was in power but I was hoping the pain of exercise would take my mind off texting Rachel but all it did was add to it. I stumbled around for two and a half miles, sweat seeping from my every pore, in a less than impressive thirty two minutes, all the time worrying about what I had said to Rachel, what she would think of me and what would be the repercussions of my actions.
When I burst through the door, I ignored James singing Ice Ice Baby in just his pants and made straight for my phone. I fully expected a blank screen. After all, when you’re unlucky in love you don’t get texts when you need and want them the most, you’re merely left turning the phone off and on in the hope there’s something wrong with the signal rather than your personality. However, shockingly, I had two from Rachel, ten minutes apart. The first one read,
Not sure if we are getting our wires crossed. I’m a bit confused actually.
This was followed by:
Shall we just go for a drink next we
ek, might be better before you start?
Was Rachel my female equivalent? Had she been panicking at my lack of response? She had sent two messages in the same time I had sent none plus, so I believed, she had officially asked me on a date. That’s how I took it anyway; that we would be going an official, fully functioning, man versus woman, date. Of course, I wouldn’t treat it as one quite so openly, I mean I wasn’t about to turn up with a bunch of flowers hoping to get a glimpse of her nasty bits but I thought, subconsciously, we both knew it would be.
Sorry, I had to nip out then. I was confused as well. Next week sounds great. How about Thursday at Mars Lounge?
Her message came back almost immediately.
Sounds fine, see you at 8?
Great, look forward to it. Terence
I pondered whether to put Tel rather than Terence but she didn’t really know me by any other name than the latter and, for some reason, I felt it prudent to officially sign off from the conversation which is why I typed my name out in its entirety. It made no difference whatsoever but, when it comes to love and stuff, you never can be sure.
Me too. See you then. x
Bloody hell I thought; a kiss...so soon into the relationship. She didn’t have to put a kiss, not by any means, after all, a kiss is quite an intimate gesture; it is such a small thing yet means so much. No one puts a kiss on a text unless it’s meant to mean something right? But should I have replied with a kiss of my own? Was that the done thing? Is it what she wanted? Would it be out of place to respond with a kiss of my own? Let’s be honest, she was in the driving seat, she had signed her contract; mine hadn’t even come through the door so she was entitled to put a kiss. I, on the other hand, I didn’t feel like I had the authority to. Much could have gone wrong for me by sending a message with a kiss on it which is why, in the end, I left it. It was for the best I felt and I only had to wait until Thursday to find if that kiss meant as much to her as it did to me but wow...a kiss!