She came up with a big smile on her face. What she said almost made me shit my pants.
If you had to pick one person in this company to be a serial killer, who would it be?
I’d been in the middle of a work-related conversation with two other people when she came out of nowhere, and now they were looking at me with these smiles, and I’m wondering–do they know?
Like if this were a movie, she said. Who in this office would you peg to be a serial killer?
Was it a question or a thinly-veiled accusation?
I told her I would pick her because who the fuck asks a question like that, but I’m mostly wondering if the rumors about her are true. Can she see things?
Later when we were all heading out to lunch, I asked if we were carpooling to the restaurant, and she said, “Why, you got a body in the trunk?”
She said it with a flirtatious smirk. Again, that sudden, numbing feeling in my stomach. Is she fucking with me?
I watched her all through lunch, with a table of twelve between us, seeing her in a completely different light. There was something about her. She’d somehow made me feel like she’d seen me naked. And she wasn’t scared. I wasn’t used to women looking me in the eyes like that, so boldly with no fear. I liked it. It pissed me off. She struck fear in me. I’d never felt so fascinated. I couldn’t eat. Why had I never noticed it in her before. I vowed to keep an eye on her. Find out what it was about her that made me feel this way, a man always in control, to feel exposed inside his own skin.
He could listen to her from the other side of the wall, knowing the exact moments in her phone conversations when she would unleash with fury, then giggle to himself when it happened. He knew her moods like his own internal rhythms.
He often wondered if she could even see herself.
Between someone so aware and someone so unaware.
The thing is, he saw love as a simple straight line.
I don’t know when I stopped looking for the signs. Sometimes I wonder if I ever really was.
People are aware of gravity in different ways, here on earth.
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Whenever I see the number 12:12, I pause, as though listening for a message.
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Okay I’m back. Rescued myself from the pit. Have requested a Communication Meeting. I’m going to run it, make something good come out of it. Then I’m going to charm the hell out of my customer. He may never buy from us again, but he won’t be able to hate us either. End of the day, we’ll make it happen.
In the meantime, I’m going to charge up some lines of communication, and rewire the circuitry. Time for a different structure.
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Be less good to be less bad. Stay closer to the middle. Expand your perception of time. Don’t let others force you off your pace. Be bigger. You’re letting outer elements put you on tilt. You can’t resist stress. That makes it real. You let it pass through you without giving it any tension or resistance to catch on.
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Mercury retrograde reduced me to tears today. Somewhere someone’s having a big laugh. I am so upset right now, I don’t know what to do.
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Virgo is many beautiful, kind things, but she’s also a real bitch.
Vietnamese house party. Strippers. Endured a lap dance from a solid brutha named Charles. More later.
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My love is not a cage, he said.
It’s more like a prison sentence.
I’m constantly hiding things from myself to protect myself from being inappropriate. Is there such thing as being too polite as to no longer be participating?
Remember last year I got an echo of a 1982 Taurus? I think he might sit right in front of me. I didn’t realize because I was always told he was a Cancer.
A gemini always has an escape route. It’s about whether or not we are compelled to use it.
I’m a possessive person. Rather than burying it, I have to accommodate it because it’s about my needs. Don’t make me want you if I can’t have you. Then again, I won’t want you if I can’t have you. Understand I need to own things. But there’s also a beauty to being owned. You would own me too.
What irritates me so much is when people don’t interact with me as a real person. I hate it when they dump their projections on me. You’re like a skeleton that people try to hang their clothes on, B once said. I don’t take it on anymore.
What I need most is visibility.
I don’t know why there’s not more discussion in the US about what happened on that tour bus in Manila. I know Hollywood’s scrambling. But from a human perspective, it’s an unbelievable tragedy.
Sometimes I think you might be a psychopath.
I looked up and smirked. Why do you say that?
Just…You, he said.
Later I announced that I was going to make a personal call.
Why don’t you use the team room?
Why? I said.
I called the blinds company. I’d placed an order for blinds a few days ago and I was calling in the credit card. As it was ringing, i looked over at him and pretended someone picked up. Yes, I would like to put a hit out on the guy across from me, I said. He rolled his eyes. The old Vietnamese lady picked up and I told her it was Julia. That I’d talked to Matthew and I was calling in a credit card number. She asked me how I wanted to split the deposit and payment, and I said, $400 up front, and $483 after. I gave her my credit card information and hung up.
So how much did it cost you to put a hit on me, he asked.
You heard me. $400 up front and $483 when the job’s done.
Psychopath, he said. But he was laughing.
Incidentally, today was also the day I took advantage of the heatwave and baked cookies on the dashboard of my car. They put the picture up on the Am-x Facebook page.