Just Another Typical Day

I came into the office this morning and opened my safe. Before even getting the door open, I was hit with a wave of weed smell coming out. 

“Perfect,” I thought. Even my thoughts are sarcastic. I hate the smell of weed.

I work in a diamond dealer’s office, which is probably one of the sketchiest places a person can work. Apart from the constant keeping of paperwork to prove that you are not a money laundering agency, there’s cameras in every office, plenty of insurance fraud throughout the industry, and pretty much every other dirty underhanded trick in the book. Most of the industry is made up of religious Jewish people- many from Israel or Long Island. Almost everyone is in the industry because they grew up in it and their family runs the business. This only contributes to the sketchiness in most cases.

My boss and I are the only people who work at my office. I’ve been here about a year and a half and we’ve developed a good relationship. Not unlike the family run businesses, a certain amount of illegal activities and general sketchiness probably strengthens the bond. I’m a trustworthy employee with no moral qualms so long as no one is actually getting hurt. Therefore, an ideal partner in crime.

Yesterday my boss informed me that our mutual friend in the industry was coming over at 5 pm.

“Oh. Really? He’s coming here?” I had asked. Usually we met up with him and went to dinner or something.

 “Yeah. And the tech guy. We’re meeting a new dealer.”

Our old dealer had been caught recently and got in some trouble with the cops. He had supplied a number of ‘party favors’ for our Christmas party, which had ended in a strip club with my friend getting his first lap dance from a woman dressed as Santa Claus. 

“You know, I see the craziest shit I’ve ever seen in my life working here.”

“What? In this industry?”

“In this office. Specifically.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” my boss had said. “I’ve told you- we’re a ‘full service’ operation over here. The only thing we don’t do is prostitution.”

Apparently, we draw the line somewhere.

Crabbiness in the Workplace

Today is frustrating at work. My boss, who has spent the last several days house hunting rather that accomplishing any actual business-like activities, has given me about 400 assignments to do at once. Almost all of these strike me as the least consequential items to be doing with my day. 

One of them is ordering business cards- a simple enough task. OR IS IT? I walked in on my boss using his diamond gauge to measure the millimeter depth of his current business card and after that he plans to send me to the other side of town to make sure the “black is black enough” while he goes to lunch. 

Not only do I have the other 399 assignments he gave me, but why can’t we just trust the actual printer to do this? I asked for rich black- if they don’t deliver, get a refund. How on earth is it more economical to pay your assistant to look into this for potentially hours? Re-goddamn-diculous.

All I can think of is American Psycho. There was a lengthy analysis of business cards made by Christian Bale right before he went around murdering people in the buff. I’m pretty much on the edge of American Psycho myself these days.

Time to get rolling on that resume again…

New Love on the Horizon?

It’s been a long time since I posted. I’m the worst at maintaining a blog.

So updates- Needle in the Haystack guy is out. He eventually decided that I wasn’t going to ever be up for something more serious and he got himself out. I eventually decided that Boston guy was never going to want anything more serious, so I got out.

Then I dated a bit, worked a lot and nothing of notable interest happened to me for several months, which in and of itself is pretty ridiculous. Awkward is more normal in my life.

Presently, 2 things have happened. I have met someone new- he shall henceforth be known as The Rugby Player (and/or RP). I actually really like him and would be interested in dating him at a more exclusive level. I met him because he is a teammate of my roommate’s boyfriend. There have been many occurrences in which we should have met over the past entire year, but never crossed paths until February. Timing wise, this is actually perfect as had we met at this time last year, I was all over the place with that Two-Faced Douchebag from the restaurant and he was in a relationship with a girl in DC.

The unfortunate part of this timing is that my roommate and her boyfriend (the common friends responsible for us getting together) split up 3 weeks after our first date. So that adds an interesting awkward component.

Things have been a little shaky with this guy, so I was excited to see him last night for the first time in 2 weeks. He seemed just as excited, and we grabbed a drink and talked and laughed. I need to have a more serious conversation with him regarding what is going on though, because I’m getting some mixed messages. Haven’t seen him in 2 weeks BUT we text every day. Reputation for hooking up all the time, BUT he says he hasn't been sleeping with anyone else… it’s all quite confusing. I can’t figure out if he likes me or just wants another convenience based booty call girl out in Brooklyn to add to the harem of “options.”

Last night RP paid for me to take a cab home. He didn’t feel comfortable with me walking around my neighborhood at night alone, which was sweet, but a bit unnecessary. When I got home I found my roommate sitting in the living room on the couch, drinking wine, and attempting to teach herself to play guitar through a YouTube tutorial. She seems to have her doubts about RP. Some are well founded and others seem more bitter and derived from her recent breakup with RP’s friend.

My night eventually ended with me going to bed and RP sending me an epic, somewhat dark, and romantic poem.

Then there was a dick pic.

Then a period.

I don’t know what to make of this boy, but I sure like him.