Couples' Solitude

The pushy, the crap-stirrer and the traitor meet in the same editorial office

Why is it like a law that each and every office has at least one person no one can stand? Sometimes I almost think they specifically teach it to HR folks to always hire an intriguer into the teams who would keep everyone else in a check-mate. In the first days I thought the producer B. hired M. as the editor-in-chief because he wants to screw her. Later I realized it's not her in his scipe, but Sylvie. I paid a great price for my ignorance. Sylvie is 25, and as bright a mind as a starless night. When she was born, God must have given her body as a consolation prize for her lack of mental abilities: huge breasts, long legs, big, surprised baby-blue eyes, lips fuller and plumper than Angelina Jolie's. And a gaze stupid to infinity. Primitive thoughts, zero creativity, whining to no end. From the first moment I was neglecting the woman as I can't stand stupid girls. I'm not even tickled by her openly out beauties either. She wears such short skirts she can't even sit down without all her junk showing. With Mark, the other editor we've been making bets when will her boobs pop out of her shirts when she bends over for something. Like for other people's ideas. She comes in by 3pm and doesn't do anything, and still she leaves last. As it turned out, together with B. I wasn't especially concerned about her until the producer called me to his office. He wasn't making many extra laps:
- Sylvie has been complaining that you never listen to her ideas.
I almost answered because she has none, but luckily I remained silent.
- You don't let her in, you don't pass any information to her.
Nem bírtam magammal:
- Maybe if she didn't come in for the afternoon only, and showed at least a minimum interest towards the programmes in making.
- Don't be unjust! She can't yet come earlier, she spends her mornings at her old job. That's the only way I could tempt her over. In exchange she's still in when you're all long gone. But that's not important, in a few days it will all resolve. Sylvie is really talented, she has ingenious ideas.
- Pity she never shared a single one with us yet...
- Because you don't pay attention to her. Even yesterday she came to me crying that you treat her like air.
I was thinking of a snappy answer when B. suddenly leaned closer to me:
- Hey, did Mark really have a go on her?
- Nah, no way...
He didn't let me finish the sentence.
- But that's what I heard... and not from her... that he's pushing for her pretty nasty.
- Mark? That's ridiculous. He's just laughing at her... (and I almost added, me too)
- Well that's it, don't you think that he's trying to hide his primal instinct with this extreme reaction?
I protected Mark with teeth and nails. It turned out later that I shouldn't have.
- I don't want conflicts inside the office - he summed up. - There's way enough problems with the shows without weakening yourself from the inside.
I tried to say something, but he didn't let me to.
- I want to ask you not to let the crew members pick on each other.
I didn't understand why he wants me to do it. Why not M.? After all, she's the editor-in-chief, she should be holding the team together. As if he was reading my mind, B. switched to a more intimate tone:
- You know what women are like, they're always jealous of one another. And M. is not an exception either. That's why I turn to you. I want you to be my lengthened arm in the office. Combing together what goes apart. You see, no? And please do me a favor and teach Sylvie a bit. The girl's a real treasure, just she doesn't have enough experience yet.
- Of course, no problem, but could we do it in regular hours? - I tried to turn the request to my favor. - My wife is getting upset that I keep going home so late.
- We will rearrange the tasks: you go on with the shows in the morning and you teach Sylvie in the afternoon. Will that work?
I agreed, at least I agreed to deal with the bitch. Of course I did not agree to be B.'s spy.
From M. I know that B. also talked to Mark. The producer told M. that according to Mark I got hooked on Sylvie. I keep making nasty comments on her clothing to cover it up.
M. reassured me that she has faith in me, but she also warned me she doesn't like it when the employees' emotional life goes across the border with work...

There are sone couples who bring out the worst of each other. If one is up, the other is down. Their energy can never add up, one will always put the other out. Of course this has a good side too. Negative forces can't add up either, making the final, demolishing explosion impossible.

A few days ago I was praying for Peter to find a job. Now for him to work less. He comes home at night, most of the time I can't even wait for him. I have to get up early to tend to the kids, he sleeps in until eight, goes to the gym, goes to work, and everything starts from scratch. If I even mention, how much he does it for anyways, he gets angry. "Why can't anything be good for you?" That's what he yells at me. He complains that he would come earlier, but everyone else stays so late, so he can't take off because then they will work against him all night. I can ask him to arrange his life so he could see his children at least every once in a while, he just shrugs and keeps saying that as soon as the new channel takes off it will be a lot easier. I just keep hearing M. this, M. that more and more. I think they got just a bit too close. Should I be jealous? Maybe. I don't know. I don't feel anything. Just couples' solitude.

Unsure Balance

Would you want to know what's going on in there?

- Sophie, did you cheat on him? - I asked again as she didn't answer at first. She looked in my eyes long, as if she tried to read my mind. Like if she was trying to decide whether she can trust me, whether she can tell it exactly to me. Would it change in our relationship if she told me her secret? Would it change the worth of our common past?
- No - she finally uttered.
She didn't convince me.
- Would you tell if you did?
- No.
- Well great. You just easily say no, and when I ask back, you admit that you won't even tell if it was a yes, putting that whole no into parenthesis.
She shrugged and with that she considered the topic closed. I didn't ask any longer, I didn't really want to know. I asked if anyone was following her.
- No, nobody - she answered troubled. - I just don't know anymore whom I can trust.
- In me – I said, putting my hand on her shoulder again.
I only learnt it way later, from her diary, what happened on that weekend.

After the official program I excused myself out. John, my boss was not happy, but he accepted the situation. "See you at dinner" - he said and left for the wellness center. I bumped into a few of the partners at the hall. There were a few women amongst them too. They didn't seem to care at all that the meeting continues in the pool.
I called the kids from my room. I learned that Peter passed them on to his parents. At that point I was sorry that I didn't join the others, but it was too late to reconsider. I laid down on the bed and I was thinking what we could have done wrong and how could we get over this whole thing.
Dinner turned out great, the two sides got closer to each other and the initial distrust seemed to melt away. We drank champagne and chatted. The boss of the advertising agency asked a lot about my job, but he wasn't too pushy. Then they went back to the pool and I retired to my room. I was clicking around on the TV, but I found nothing I would like. I didn't think of bringing a book with me, so finding nothing better I was leafing through the next day's presentation. I turned my cell phone off, I didn't want Peter to reach me. I simply had nothing to say to him. I didn't want to admit that he won, I again met his expectations, even if nobody meant a meat market here.
I was just dozing away when the hotel phone rung. „Peter, so he did reach me” - that was my first thought, so I didn't take the call. In two minutes, somebody was knocking on my door.
It was John. He asked me to talk over the next day's to-do list. I stepped in his way.
- I got a few important info tidbits. We need to change the strategy – he said, just as if we were in the office. - Come, I'll buy you a goodnight cocktail and we can talk it over – he stepped back from my doorway. - We are about to make the deal of the century.
I didn't move, I could just see the blame in Peter's eyes.
- Bring tomorrow's pressie too! - John smiled cunningly. And I followed him obediently. Peter's image disappeared into mist.

My father came around eleven for the kids. He didn't ask anything, I'm sure he saw I need to go. Father and son can understand each other without words. I went over to my neighbor and asked for my buddy's bike. He wasn't too happy to lend it, but I didn't care. I told Sophie myself to go with our own car. The long drive can give a lot of opportunities, and her boss would've only been too happy to come and pick her up. I didn't want to borrow my parents' car, until then I was too much in love with the thought of blazing down the highway on a bike. Sophie undermined my idea of commuting on a motorbike when we had the money for it.
- The kids need a father, not an organ donor – she said every single time when I mentioned my idea.
Victor is about the same size as I am, so I begged off his leather suit too. He was very close to saying no, but he could see that in this situation he just can't do it to me. I topped out at 150 kph on the highway (translator's note: legal speed limit is 130kph) and after long long weeks, for the first time, I was happy. It was mercilessly cold, but I didn't care. Finally I felt like a man again who can keep his and his lady's fate in his hands. I arrived at the hotel around 2pm. I let out a sigh of relief: our car was there in the parking lot. At least she didn't lie about where she was going. I parked the bike far away, even though I knew she would never recognize me in this outfit.
On the road I imagined it a hundred times or more to storm into the hotel and ask about Sophie. The receptionist is all confused, then he tries to keep me from rushing to the pool.
But I got unsure. I thought over what I could find.
1. I find Sophie in the pool, her boss yanking his paws out of her bra with a scared face. (This one I didn't want to see anyways.)
2. Sophie gets cheered up by my arrival and we end up in bed. (This one I didn't count on as it hasn't happened in so long.)
3. Sophie gets upset that I'm spying after him. (This one was the most likely, but understandably I didn't really want to go through that one.)
So I left for home, but after a few miles I reconsidered: if I came so far, I really have to investigate it.
In the hotel parking lot I got unsure again.
I tried to decide what would be more cowardly. Going in or not going in, this is the question. I was staring at the windows, I tried to guess which one is Sophie's.
Finally I didn't go in, but it wasn't all my decision: the security guard pointed me out, I guess he found the helmet-covered biker staring at the building. I didn't wait until I got kicked out, I just hopped on the bike and rode home.

All the way home I was thinking whether or not I would want to know what's going on in there.