As usual, the office emptied in minutes after quitting time, and Claire found herself alone. Nothing new about that, she thought to herself. She gathered up her purse and a little bit of work she was taking home, and walked toward the elevator. There really didn't seem to be anybody else around.
Actually, she mused, the big bosses up on the next floor were probably still hard at it. Well, they were probably hard at passing around the bourbon bottle, while gossiping about their wives, mistresses, and golf games.
My god, she said to herself, you are a cynical one today, aren't you? She pushed the elevator's "Call" button, and waited.
Just before the elevator reached her, someone appeared at her side. She had just enough time to see that it was a co-worker - a man - who she was pretty sure didn't like her. She didn't know why. As the door to the elevator started to open, the man quickly moved ahead of her.
Great! Just how I need to end a rotten day. Talk about impolite! She said all that mentally, but as soon as they were both inside and the door closed, her frustration with the day boiled over.
"You've got your nerve, pushing in ahead of me!"
He turned slightly, and seemed to see her for the first time. "I'm sorry. Is this your private coach? I wasn't aware." She started to respond, but he kept right on talking. "Did I elbow you out of the way? Did I almost knock you over in my haste to beat you inside? If not, what's your problem?"
He didn't say it nastily, or belligerently - which actually made her madder. She looked up at him - that made her even angrier, because she didn't like looking up at any man. "I was there first."
"You're certainly correct about that. You were there first. However, if we went back to our original positions, and I had a tape measure, I think we would find that our individual distances from the door were just about equal. I repeat - if this isn't your private coach..."
She was ready to fight, but he wouldn't quit talking. "If there had been a bunch of men standing with me, I don't think we would have stopped to consider who should enter first. I think we would have all entered as orderly as possible. If you had been standing waiting with a bunch of women, I think the same would have occurred. If we were both standing in a mixed group of men and women..."
She finally interrupted him. "I've been watching you. This is not the first time that you've been disrespectful to me. I think you have very purposefully barged ahead of me onto the elevator, several times. You've also made rather a point of going through doors ahead of me, and not watching to see if the door hit me on the way back. Most obvious, in your campaign against me, is how you treat me in staff meetings. You're often the one who carries the coffee pot or the water pitcher around, and tops off people's drinks. You very clearly ignore me on purpose, and never offer water or coffee to me."
The elevator hadn't moved since they entered. Clearly, no one was waiting for it. Rather than respond to her at once, he motioned toward the "down" button, silently suggesting she push it. She did.
"I've been watching you, too, and not just because you're cute..."
That made her so mad, she almost stamped her foot at him. He ignored her. "As I started to say, my motive for watching you was not because of how you look - although, truthfully, you are - as they used to say - very easy on the eyes. Well, also truthfully, I have on occasion watched you for the sole reason that I do like to look at pretty women... Well, okay, I'm getting off the subject. When I said just now that I was watching you, I meant that I have been considering your actions the way you have been observing and enumerating my alleged misdeeds. I have seen you refuse to accept coffee from anybody in the office at any time. I have seen you purposely step back while waiting for an elevator, so that no one would have any reason to usher you ahead. I have seen you behave similarly at open and closed doors. Isn't it possible that my presumed poor treatment was really just me trying to do what you obviously want?"
The elevator door had opened, and they stepped out into the empty foyer. "Do you have time for a cup of coffee?" he asked. She just stared at him. He seemed not to notice. "There's a nice coffee shop just a couple of doors down. Everybody will be over at the hotel for "happy hour," so it should be nice and quiet. We can continue our argument, or whatever it is we're having." He turned to go, as if it was all settled. Surprisingly, she found herself walking off with him.
***
As he had thought, the shop was almost empty. They sat at a table near the back of the room, the waitress following them with menus. He didn't wait for Claire to order. "Just black coffee for me, Terri. Whatever's freshest and hottest."
"Done, Andy." She turned to Claire. "I'll have a medium latte," Claire said.
"Coming right up."
They sat and looked at one another for a moment. Andy. Claire hadn't known his name. He had just been an anonymous pain in the... neck. Now, he was a pain named Andy. They were making progress.
"I'm not sure what we're doing here," she said. "My first couple of weeks in the office, I must have been propositioned by two-thirds of the male employees, suggesting (sometimes implicitly, sometimes rather explicitly) everything from coffee to a roll in the hay. I turned them all down. Yet here I am, drinking coffee with perhaps the meanest man in the whole company, and one of the few who hadn't previously hit on me.
"Is this some new type of bad cop-good cop seduction: you're horrible to me, but then you turn so nice that I just fall into your arms, and you have your way with me?"
He'd been watching her closely as she talked, and now he gave her a big grin. "That would be amazing, wouldn't it? Amazing, and amazingly elaborate. I don't think it would work, under any circumstances.
"But let's take you points in order. First, I thought about joining the throngs 'hitting on you.' I am a male, and any new female in the office is certainly worth giving a shot. However, as I talked to various of your rejects, I heard three things. First, you are very mean. Second, you are probably frigid. Three, you are possibly a lesbian.
"Well, I ignored the final two observations, as just male reaction to female rejection. I mean, no man could think a straight White American girl with normal sexual tendencies could brush him off like that.
"However, on the first point, everybody I talked to agreed. They didn't all use the word 'mean,' but it came down to the same feeling that our meeting - whatever path it took - would not be very inspirational . As far as taking it to the next step - a possible 'roll in the hay,' I don't think that would be too pleasant. You're too prickly for me, I think."
Claire felt mesmerized. She couldn't believe this conversation was actually happening. She thought she should respond, but she had no clue as to what to say.
He wasn't quite finished, anyway. "By saying you were too prickly, I made my comment about 'rolling in the hay' rather personal. I'm sorry about that... Oh, not about the sentiment. I don't think we would be very good together in that situation, but I mean about 'rolling' in general, whether in the hay, on a bed, or wherever it happened. I'm only interested in that happening if the person participating with me is either: one, someone as deeply in love with me as I am with her, and we are truly there to 'make love;' or two, someone who is there with me because we both want to have a joyous, fun time together. Now, the ideal would be to be having fun making love to a very special partner. Unfortunately, the stars haven't aligned like that for me, so far. I still have hopes."
Andy glanced at his watch. "Oh, lord, I don't want to miss this train. I think I can still make it." He stood up, and smiled at her. "I really enjoyed this. Thanks."
She watched him stop briefly to talk to Terri at the cash register, and then he was gone. With no alternative, she gathered her purse and portfolio, and started for the door. Terri was just moving off to talk to a party just arriving.
"You're paid up, honey. The Boyfriend got it," she said, over her shoulder.
Great! I'm his girlfriend, and he bought my coffee. How about two frustrations at once, to end a perfect day!
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