This Is Paradise (part five)

Tuesday, June 29, 2021

It seems that the memoirist was drinking his drink very slowly but kept ordering more drinks for my manager and me. They also seem to be stronger than the one before or was that just my imagination. As she got more drunk, she tended to order me around, even at the bar. She kept telling me to drink up my drink, and I did so because I do what she wants or says. The writer looked at me with great amusement as he ordered more drinks to be brought to the table, except for him, of course. He confidentially told me that he's driving tonight. He then whispered something in her ear, and they both laughed. I remember it bothers me that he would say a secret or have a private chat while sitting in the booth with them.

I noticed the two women at the other table, who my host, purchased drinks for them. They were leaving their table, but they made eye contact with the author before exiting the bar. As soon as they left, he excused himself and told us he's going to the restroom. I suspected following the two women, but this gave me time to talk to my manager.

"I'm not feeling that well. Let's leave when he gets back." She took a sip of her drink and told me, "I only care how you feel when you are at work." She paused. "Not out of concern for you, but I want to make sure you complete your duties while working under me. I have standards for you, and at times, I see you slipping." She paused again. "For instance, you're disappointing me now." I didn't know what to say after that. I told her, "Sorry."

"If you want to go, just go." Again, I wanted to leave, but I feel compelled to stick it out here with them. They disgust me, and yet, I'm attracted to them. I want to say I hate him, but the truth is, I find comfort in finding him horrific. He struck me as someone with no actual writing talent but a good con artist.

On the other hand, I never want to displease my manager, who is on the perfect side. I feel she understands me more than I know myself. When I feel inarticulate, that is when I know she is articulate about me. In my heart, I know she thinks of me. Her giving me a bad time is her manner of noticing the actions I commit in front of my superior. I excuse myself to use the restroom. She nods to me as saying, "just go."

I went to the restroom, and I heard some noise in the stall. I couldn't see, of course, but I definitely listened to his voice, giving command of some sort. I urinated in the urinal, and as I turned around to zip my pants, one of the girls come out of the small stall. She smiled at me as she left the room, and then a second later, the other left as well. I stood there for what seems to be forever when he struts out of the cubicle, zipping up his pants. He pads my shoulder, goes to the sink, throws water in his face. And says to me, "Let's get back to the table."

As we approach the table, he got in first to his spot next to her. I sat across from them. "I have to tell you; your fellow employee is a wild one." She gestures by shrugging her shoulders and doing an upside-down frown turning her mouth in a comic u-shape. I never liked pretty girls who make silly or funny faces. Me and her, drunk or not; it is the will of Pan that turns the landscape into a crisis. I look at him, and he smiles back at me.

The end of part five, part six... to be continued.