Charles did not get an internship at that company, and we thought the best way to get revenge would be for me to sleep my way to the top, and take control of the company, and hire him as a writer. Right. But we did go shopping, and buy a pair of ankle high stiletto boots for me, and I did wear a miniskirt to the office every day.
It did not take long before some assistant editors and paste up guys started asking me to go to lunch with them. Sometimes they simply stood in the doorway and stare at me—to which my boss said, “What? What? Why are you standing there?”
And they said, “Is she busy for lunch?” thus sealing my fate at that office forever.
“How do I know? I don’t keep her social calendar!” He later told me that moment kept him from hiring me as his new assistant editor—I was too much trouble.
The next thing I knew, I was on an outing with them to see Robot Monster in 3-D. Still horny and feeling “friendly”, I asked if anyone wanted to go out for coffee with me afterward, and only one guy said yes. He kind of looked like Howard Stern; very long curly hair, little round glasses, naïve blue eyes, thirties. It turned out he worked for the same company, on a different floor. I took him home with me that night, but it was so unmemorable I did not recognize his voice when he called the next day.
He courted me anyway. And having nothing better to do, I went over his house. As we walked over there from the train station, he pointed out the three-story place with dirty pink siding against a gray sky. When I saw that one window had a zebra print sheet for a shade, I thought, maybe this guy is cooler than he seems. But no, that was not his window, but his roommate’s.
Believe me, I was anxious to meet his roommate.
And I was not disappointed…
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