Tag Archives: 40 something

The Profiler.

“Not even a bootycall?”

“Not even a bootycall.”

“So you got nothin’?”

“I got nothin’,” I said, shaking my head.

“That’s a damn shame,” said Sean, as he took a sip of his Guiness. “No one to drunk-text.”

“Nope, no one to drunk-text,” I sighed. I took a sip of my Bud Light. “Well, except My Ex, of course. I drunk-text him all the time.”

Sean gave me a look.

Continue reading The Profiler.

The More Things Change, The More They Stay the Same. Or… Part Two.

At first, I was too stunned to speak.

And then I almost said, “I’m touched.”

But that seemed inappropriate.

I tried out in my mind, “I’m flattered.” But that also seemed weird for a work exchange.

So instead, I just said: “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Continue reading The More Things Change, The More They Stay the Same. Or… Part Two.

A Brief Pause.

“Guess what, RJ??” I said, as I skipped into his office.

He looked up from his computer. “What’s up, Trace?”

“Well, I know you like to be kept up-to-date on all things Blog,” I said, as I settled into his guest chair.

“That’s true,” he said. “I do.”

We both laughed then. RJ doesn’t read my blog. This is totally fine, of course. The one time he did, he randomly chose Sanity in Sweat, which is one of my more, um, personal and, er, embarrassing posts. After he’d read it, all he said was, “Wow. I didn’t realize you were such an avid reader.” And then, “And so hungover all the time.”

“Thanks!” I’d replied cheerfully.

He didn’t read any other posts after that.

It’s probably better that way. Continue reading A Brief Pause.

Date Three. Part Two.

“You clearly didn’t think this through, did you?” asked Archie.

“Noooo,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “No, I didn’t.”

He sighed.

“What’s going on? How was the date last night?” Lux appeared at my desk. She was holding a large Starbucks coffee and was still wearing her coat.

“The date was amazing,” Archie answered. “Like the best stranger first-date ever.”

“Really??” she asked. Her eyes were shining.

“Yes,” Archie continued. “They bonded over comedies from the 70s and their love of cheese and talked about her Fitbit and talked about their families and even have a lot of similar goals.”

“He even asked to see a picture of the cat,” I said sadly.

“And he’s totally allergic and doesn’t like them. So that’s a big deal,” Archie said. He took a sip from his own large Starbucks coffee.

I looked down at my thumb and picked at the smudged polish. “He said he’d just take Claritin.”

Lux shook her head. “So I don’t get it. What’s with the face? This is all great!”

“He’s asked her out again and sent his personal email.”


“It’s – ” Archie started.

“It’s got his full name in it,” I broke in, pointing at my laptop screen, which displayed Bradley’s message.

“Oh good,” she said. “Did you google him?”

“Of course I did.” I rolled my eyes at her. “And he’s exactly who he says he is.”

“That’s the problem,” said Archie.

The realization set in and the mood darkened.

“Oooh,” she breathed. “And you can’t send him your email because it has your last name and he’d google you and see the blog.”

“Exactly,” Archie said with resignation.
Continue reading Date Three. Part Two.

Date Three. Part One.

“Are you going to do a statement lip?”

“Well, considering I don’t even know what that means, I think the answer is no.”

“Okay,” Lux said, as she pulled up a variety of nail polish images on her office laptop. “From what you’ve told me about your outfit, here are some choices of what I think you should wear.”

“You have a whole Pinterest board just for nails?” I asked.

“Of course!” she exclaimed.

“I think I like that one,” I said and pointed to a deep purple shade.

“Good choice,” she said, nodding. “Very popular for Winter.”

I sat back in my chair and sighed. “God, I hate getting manicures. I was supposed to do it yesterday but I blew it off.”

She was wide-eyed. “Why would you hate getting manicures?”

“Because I hate strangers rubbing my hands with all that lotion and they clip your cuticles and the filing noise makes my teeth hurt and it’s all just so gross!” I shuddered. “And not to mention, then you have to sit there for 10 minutes while your nails dry and you can’t touch anything, not even flip through a magazine, and it’s so supremely a waste of time and SO BORING.” Continue reading Date Three. Part One.

Sorry Fellas.

“Hi Bradley – I’m so sorry but I think it might be best if we reschedule. I’m home sick from work today and I’m not sure how I’ll be feeling tomorrow. The last thing I want to do is think I’ll feel better and then cancel last minute and waste your time. Is there any evening you are available next week?”

And then I wrote something which I thought was cute and charming. I’m not going to put it here, just in case it wasn’t so cute and charming after all. I don’t want to know. Continue reading Sorry Fellas.