Read Disillusion Meets Delight Online

Authors: Leah Battaglio

Disillusion Meets Delight (4 page)

 

“You look familiar, have we met?” He asks me as if he does not remember last weekend. 

 

“I believe you stepped on me.” I respond with utter contempt. 

 

“Ah yes, I do remember.  Is that why you are looking at me as though I just bought the last pair of Manolo’s in circulation?”  Excuse me?  What, is that supposed to mean?  Oh this one is a real piece of work. 

 

“I am not sure how to respond to that utterly insulting remark but no, that is not why I am looking at you in disgust.  If you must know, you are holding the very DVD that I had intended on renting tonight.  I was very excited and had my heart set on it and yet again, you, sir have created frustration in my life.”  Look at me, telling him what I think.  I am not usually this assertive, especially with strange men.

 

“Well, I will not get into the psychological babble of how it is impossible for me to cause you to feel any way unless you let yourself.  Why don’t you just go to a different video store if it’s that important to you?” 

 

“I don’t want to go to a different store.  This one is closer and I owe too many late fees which is why I am at this one brainiac.  Besides, why are you renting Pretty in Pink anyway?  Isn’t there a Steven Segal movie for you to rent?”  This guy is really starting to bug me.  I am whipping out the male stereotypes that do not express my finer traits.

 

“It’s none of your business why I chose this movie but I will reassure you that it gives me even more pleasure to know that it has ruined your trivial evening.  Till we meet again?”  And with that, he was off to the counter to rent my movie for 5 days and mark my words he will keep it those 5 days just to piss me off.

 
Chapter Seven
 

 

 

As Ian pulled into his driveway he could not suppress his feelings of guilt.  As crazy as “video store girl” may be (he had named her this from their first encounter) there was a spark in her that he could not stop thinking about.  She was undoubtedly attractive.  Her dark brooding eyes and cute 5’2” stature was alluring.  She had an hourglass figure that she seemed to restrain with dark, understated clothing.  There was something about this stranger that intrigued him.  Perhaps it was due to his lackluster social life.  Since he and Maggie moved to Portland, he had not been able to get out very much.  His company relocated him from Washington, D.C. to Portland, Oregon last month which meant a great deal of transition and unpacking.  Although he knew very little of the Pacific Northwest, it was time for him to branch out.  He was slowly but surely discovering that the people were more than just Birkenstock wearing, micro-brew drinking liberals who protested over strange looking owls and salmon.  They were friendly and open minded people.  It was quite often that a complete stranger would strike up a conversation with him while waiting in line at the local Starbucks.  In fact, there were many pleasant experiences with new people, except for one.  The “video store girl” kept coming into his life like a tropical storm and created destruction each time they met.

 

As humorous as their discussion was, Ian did not enjoy creating so much angst in her life.  Personally, he could care less about some movie from a decade that thought green and orange were compatible colors.  However, he was on a mission from Commander Maggie and would not be allowed back in the house without it.  Since Maggie was born after the 80’s, she had not really experienced the Aqua Net decade and was quite fascinated with it all.  Apparently, John Hughes films helped her realize that regardless of the time or place, teen anguish was universal, especially in her life. 

 

The move from D.C. was not an easy transition for Ian’s little sister, Maggie.  He hoped when school started, she would ease into it a bit more but a wretched case of chicken pox ruined that idea.  Two weeks she was ordered to stay away from school.  In middle school terms,
that
according to Maggie is, “social suicide.”  By the time she returns, she will be the new kid again and everyone will have formed their groups, which will leave her eating lunch with the band geeks.  Ian knew she was being dramatic because Maggie never had difficulty with her social life.  He wondered if he should even take some tips from her.   

 

The last couple of years have been a learning experience for both him and Maggie.  At the age of 29, Ian basically went from being a big brother to a father figure.  She was put in his guardianship after their mother and Maggie’s father died in auto accident.  Although there was family that Maggie could have maybe stayed with, he did not want to put her through the shuffle between different homes of aunts and uncles.  So, gone were the late night poker gatherings and visits of the female persuasion.  Instead, PTA meetings and bake sales took precedence and slumber parties began to take on a whole new meaning. 

 

“Ian, you’re home, finally!  Did you get Pretty in Pink?” Maggie asked with her calamine lotion masking her face.  “Ian, I have been so bored.  Daytime television is lame.  Okay, the makeover show is cool, but there are so many of those infomercials on!  Oh but I want to buy the Pilates DVD they had on today.  It looks so good.  They even had Danny Glover from Lethal Weapon on there.  He’s really old now Ian. You could use it too!  If I buy in the next hour, I get an extra DVD with it!”  It’s amazing how teenage girls can talk for hours and not take a single breath. 

 

“Maggie, have you finished the homework packet Mrs. Marshall sent you?  I am supposed to drop it off tomorrow.”  He swore he would never sound like his mother and yet he found himself doing it with such ease. 

 

“Yes, I finished that dumb packet.  It took like, two hours.  I swear the schools out here are so easy.  Ooh or maybe I’m just really smart now.  Anyway, I can’t wait to get out of here and back to school.  Hopefully everyone hasn’t forgotten who I am.  I never thought I would be so bored that I wanted to go to school.  Yuck!”  Maggie was somewhat of a dramatist when it came to many situations.  “So, did you get my movie?”

 

“Yes and you wouldn’t believe the trouble it took to get it.” He said, rolling his eyes as he prepared dinner.

 

“You didn’t see that girl again did you?” Maggie chuckled as she entered the movie in the DVD player. 

 

“As a matter of fact I did!  Maggie, why are women so dramatic?  The woman thought I was the anti-Christ because I grabbed the movie that she wanted.  She hates me and we are complete strangers!  I don’t get it.  I just don’t get it.”  As Ian rambles and chops the carrots, he realizes the “video store girl” has yet again become the focus in his mind. 

 

“Well, she has good taste in films, which is a plus and dramatic isn’t always bad.  I’m dramatic and look how wonderful I am!”  Even with a face covered in calamine lotion, Maggie is able to keep her confidence.  He was very proud of her ability to persevere through so much.  At the age of 13 and 3/4, Ian sometimes felt that Maggie had a stronger head on her shoulders than he did.  Well, most of the time anyway.  “Um, yes that’s M-A-G-G-I-E and my last name is spelled D-A-M-A-T-O.  Of course I am over the age of 18!”

 

“Maggie who are you calling?” Ian scrambles to the phone, realizing that she has decided to invest in the Pilates DVD from the infomercial starring Danny Glover.  The emergency VISA card conversation would need to be refreshed in her memory.  In the meantime, he would let her finish her telephone order.  Although he would never admit it to Maggie, or anyone else for that matter, the Pilates invasion was somewhat intriguing and his curiosity was worth the $49.95.   

 
Chapter Eight
 

 

 

Although my relaxing evening took a nasty turn, I was rather looking forward to work the next day.  It was the first time that I actually had control in someone’s employment.  I am not a control freak, but I seriously do not understand how some people got hired in my office.  As my first day in a leadership position, it is necessary to dress for success.  I settle on my new black Cole Haan pumps with the cute peep toe and go from there.  Is it possible to be in love with shoes?  I found them on sale for $149.90 with a retail price of $328.99.  I stared at them the whole day after buying them.  I would have let them sleep with me but that spiky heel may have caused some abrasions.  I don’t have a boyfriend or children so it is perfectly acceptable for me to focus my love towards material items.  So, anyway, after trying on several ensembles with my fabulous shoes, I make a final decision with my gray, silk skirt from Banana Republic, black shell top from Nordstrom and pale pink lightweight cardigan.  I don’t want to sound conceited, but I think I look amazing.  I respect myself more just looking in the mirror.  You know, it’s true really isn’t it?  When one has nice things, one has more confidence.  It’s too bad my credit card is nearly maxed out.  I’m enjoying this new and improved Natalie.  I wonder if Nordstrom will finally give me a credit card now.

 

Halfway through my day as a newly appointed leader, I soon found out that a Nordstrom card was the least of my worries.  It seemed that my peers had caught on that I was no longer their peer.  I was a person of power and importance, or rather annoyance.  At 9:30 A.M. I announced the new deadlines of weekly reports.  At 10:00 A.M. I entered the break room and into a hilarious conversation that abruptly ended upon my entrance.  Oh, and at 12:45 I was the recipient of a chilling evil eye from Maxine when I approached her on the 15 minute tardiness from lunch.   

 

I had difficulty grasping my new role and the unfavorable response that I received from the other employees.  I really did not think I had changed overnight.  In fact, I made a gallant effort to be precisely the same with the exception of my new title.  In the past, if I saw that someone had made a mistake, I let them know.  It was not a feeble attempt to climb a ladder of power it was simply a matter of respect.  It has always been my philosophy that if one is to stop making mistakes then one must know they are making them. In turn, my coworkers accepted my information and presumably became better employees.  No change is apparent to me.  However, as my former teammates turned from sweet to sour, I began to wonder if they had felt that way in the first place.  I did not understand why it bothered me so much all of a sudden.  After all, most of them had half the work ethic that I did and never seemed to want to go the extra mile.  Why did I feel the need to prove myself to them anyway?  They were not going to be the people doing my evaluations.  Nor were they the ones who would grant me future promotions.  With everything said and done though, I did care what my coworkers thought of me.  I had been in their positions quite recently and consequently knew how employees viewed their superiors; typically with resentment and disregard.  To make matters worse, I had to prove myself to the new hires before the others got to them first.  There is no telling what crazy stories my coworkers could come up with.  Most of them will never let me forget the drunken stupor (not my finest moment by the way) at the company Christmas party when I decided karaoke was a good idea.  Then, there was the time I mixed all of our faxes received from July and put them in the June data.  It seems like a simple mistake with a simple solution, but not to the individual looking for the fax on July 16 that came over at 2:10 P.M.  Unfortunately the “oops my bad” didn’t really work with them. 

 

“God, Laura, how did I even get a promotion?” I ask as I delve into my oversized chef salad minus the meat.  After my less than perfect day at work, Laura agreed to meet me for dinner and much needed drinks.

 

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit hard on yourself?  Everyone makes poor decisions and silly mistakes.  Besides, most of the people in that department are morons.  I don’t miss that place at all.  I do however, miss the paycheck.  Can you believe they denied my unemployment?  I hope you know what you are getting yourself into.  You may have sold your soul to the devil!”  She giggles over her pint of ale. 

 

“Ha ha very funny.  Maybe I can make a difference.  Laura, if I could take all of the things that are so chaotic in our department and create harmony, my job will finally have meaning.”  I proclaim after my second lemon drop.

 

“I know sweetie.  I just worry that you are taking on a mission with a one woman team.  There is no support from administration.  Every person with power is a guy that thinks women should be tied to the oven making Bundt cakes.  Just don’t kill yourself over it because it is not worth it.  You deserve to be somewhere that fits your passion.”  Actually, there was one woman, Magda Rubin-Allen, but she was so cold and nasty that she was actually worse than the men.    

 

I really missed Laura.  I never understood her way of life, but she was the most sincere person I knew at my workplace.  Ever since her departure, I had felt very lonely and sad.  Laura had a way about her that exuded joy and silliness in a department filled with boredom and sterility.  I hoped she would find a new job soon.  Although she was still fun to be around, a certain spark was missing from her eyes.  As much as she hated where we worked, it was a place to belong.  Now, after several years at one job, she had to get back in the game.  Not the most ideal timing either considering our city’s dismal unemployment rate.  Yet another reason as to why I settle at the job I have currently.  With the amount of people out of work that have MBA’s, I should feel fortunate that I have a job with my BA in English.  I try to sell myself that notion everyday when I crawl out of bed before the sun has risen and the cool air bites my toes.  Each work day is yet another day in paradise.     

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