My Boss & Me

It's Him!

Since as far back as I can remember, for as long as I could read and write, I have wanted to be a writer. Not a journalist or a reporter but a writer of books. I just loved the idea of transporting a person to another world with just words. Seems magical doesn't it? I love that, it sounds like magic, but it really isn't.

I am Janice Harrison, and I want to be a writer. But things don't always work the way we want them to. Right now I am stuck with a secretary job I obtained a couple of days ago. I had to wait until the current secretary left before I could start. I haven't met my boss yet, and I was so nervous and wrecked about the first day that my friends took me out for drinks to celebrate. Normally I don't drink, but I kind of felt like I needed to cut loose. Unfortunately, I must have cut loose a little too much because I did something I would never do.

I slept with someone, and it was clear that there were no attachments because when I woke up this morning, he was gone, and I was left alone in his apartment with a note:

'Had a nice night. Made coffee, please lock the door on your way out. Thank you.'

That was it. I don't even remember his name! How drunk was I?

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!

What is that?

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!

Shit! My phone!

I threw the covers off of me and scrambled around looking for it. I found it under one of the pillows just before it hung up and answered it.

"Hey, gurrrl! How was your night?!" My best friend, Dee, short for Delilah, which she hates. She sounded like she knew exactly where I was and what happened last night.

"Honestly, I have no idea. I feel like an idiot!" I said grumpily as I walked around, trying to find my clothes and put them on piece by piece.

"Come on, you had fun! Everyone has had a one-nighter," She said with a giggle.

I scoffed at her comment as I climbed on the bed and stretched for my underwear, which somehow ended up on his ceiling fan. "Well, I don't, and I don't like it, by the way. I don't like waking up in a strange house not knowing who I was with or where I am. I don't like having to go through a damn scavenger hunt to find my damn clothes!" I said, huffing and giving up on the undies.

"Chill girly, you are fine...wait, don't you have a new job to get to?!"

I took the phone away from my face and looked at the time, 8:30. "Shit. I had half an hour to get dressed, get home, change and make it to the office. Why does this happen to me!?"

"It happens to a lot of girls, hun."

Just then, I heard a honk outside the window. I climbed off the bed and saw my friend waving her arm out her car window, "Let's go Bitch, you gotta work!"

I smiled, "Did you bring underwear!" I yelled back, and she only gave me a thumbs up. Of course, she did.

Bitch was sort of an endearing term to Dee; I don't know why but that's what she's always called me since high school. Since she moved next door to my childhood home at the end of our middle school lives, we've been friends. We bonded over being totally ready to be treated like adults in high school. We bonded, even more when we realized that wasn't going to happen. My parents would say she was a bad influence on me in high school, but I like to think I positively influenced her. When we started high school, she wasn't even thinking about going to college for any reason. Now we have both graduated from NYU, me with a master's in literature and her with a degree in digital design. She works for a great advertising company, and I still haven't even reached my dream yet. So as far as I'm concerned, we were supposed to be in each other's lives.