Here you go. Let me know what you think.
Part Three
* nine months ago*
Jessie quietly closed the door of her apartment and gratefully stepped out of her heels. Nine hours a day on the bloody contraptions were murder on her feet. Wandering across her living room she sank gratefully onto a chair and began to rub her feet, cursing the sadists whoever decided that heels were "professional."
"Huh," she snorted in derision, "professional my arse?for hookers maybe, but not secretaries. My feet are hidden under a desk all day, I don't see why it should matter what I have on my feet." Still rules were rules, and if she wanted to keep this job she'd abide by them. Even if it meant aching feet at the end of the day. Leaning back into the cushions, she let her gaze wander around her newly leased apartment. Now that she'd finally had time to unpack, she had to admit that the tiny living area was looking much better. It was definitely missing something though?a pet maybe? Nothing to hard to take care of though, and nothing that would eat her furniture if she was gone all day. Maybe a fish? The idea made her grin. That was exactly what she needed was something to take care of, and why not a fish? Easy to feed, good listeners and they didn't demand too much attention. As the idea took hold, she got up of the couch and rushed off to change.
A few hours later the Jessie re-entered her apartment and immediately began to set up the ten gallon aquarium the man at the store had sold her. After a few false starts and one unfortunate incident which saw both her and her carpet drenched with water, her little fish had a new home.
"Now all you need is a name!" she told it. The fish swam around and paid her no attention?"let's see, you're gold?how about Goldy?"
The fish continued to swim. "No? Well, maybe something a little more creative? Elvis? He dressed in gold lame?" she checked the fish for a response. Nothing.
"Not Elvis?hmmmm" suddenly it hit her and she snapped her fingers in success, "I've got it! MacPhisto!"
The fish swam to the top of the tank vainly searching for food. "Oh! You like that name do you? Well then!" Jessie exclaimed as she reached for the fish food, "MacPhisto it is!" she sprinkled a few flaked on the top of the water before heading off to the kitchen.
Later that night, having stuffed herself with pizza delivery, Jessie turned on her computer. The new message bar was blinking as she logged onto her favorite site.
Part Four
"So who is this guy anyway Jessie?"
Jessie looked up from her mocha latte to stare at her friend in question. "What guy?"
Laughing at the incredulous expression on Pam's face, she narrowly missed being hit by a flying napkin. "Oh, that guy!" she exclaimed, "he's just some guy I met on the internet. He seems like a decent person, but you never can tell with these people."
Pam raised her eyebrow and looked her coworker over. It had been hard getting to know Jessie over the weeks she'd been here, but after many prodding's and a few not so subtle hints, she had managed to become her friend. Taking their lunch break together was fast becoming a ritual for the two. Pam would chatter inanely about her many boyfriends and ask invasive questions about Jessie's own experiences. So far she hadn't been very successful extracting any real information. She got the feeling that Jessie was either recovering from a bad relationship, or completely without experiences to share. A few more of these latte sessions though and Pam was confident she'd get her friend to open up.
"So, what's his name then? Surely you know that much?" she inquired.
Jessie blushed and looked into her glass?"Bono" she mumbled.
"Excuse me?" Pam asked, "what was that? Did you say Bono?" Jessie nodded and continued to sip at her drink. "From U2?" Jessie's face was now a bright red.
"Well, he's not really Bono," she replied, "I mean it's not like the man doesn't have far better things to do with his time than to chat with his fans. I'm sure it's just some guy using Bono's name?there are quite a few of them on the site." Jessie looked up to catch Pam's reaction.
"So, let me get this straight," Pam said leaning forward on the table, "you'll go online and chat with complete strangers, but you won't go to the bar to pick up guys with me? There's something wrong with this picture Jess."
Jessie laughed, "I like it this way. If you're chatting, you have time to think about your reply, you know read it over and make changes before you send it. If I have to make conversation face to face I freeze up and can't think of anything to say." Pam shook her head.
"Alright honey, you do it your way then?but mark me! One of these days I'm going to get you into a bar. You're so gorgeous the guys won't care if all you say is 'hi'" Pam smiled as her friend self consciously patted her hair.
"If you say so," she mumbled. Personally, she'd always thought her long red hair kind of odd looking. Her freckles more than a little distracting and her eyes so big she looked like one of those Precious Moments dolls, but everytime she tried to explain this Pam just shook her head and refused to listen.
Pam looked at her watch; "We better get back if we don't want to be late." She stood, threw away her empty cup and waited for Jessie before leaving the caf?.
"So where is he from, this Bono?"
Jessie shrugged, "I'm not really sure. He seems to travel a lot with his job. Yesterday he was writing from Seattle and last week he was in New York. He hasn't seemed to stay in one place for more then a few days the whole time I've been talking to him."
"Maybe he's a transient" Pam exclaimed. Jessie looked at her quizzically.
"A transient with internet access? How would that work out?" They were nearing the Smith & Jones Corporation where they worked now and Jessie reached ahead to open the door to the lobby.
"Or maybe he's a trucker!" Pam continued, "Yeah, that's it, he probably travels around the country delivering goods and picking his nose." Jessie laughed.
"I don't care if he's three hundred pounds of redneck blubber" she said, "it's not like I'll ever meet him, and he likes my favorite band, so how bad can he be?" She pushed the call button for the elevator.
"You're right Jessie!" Pam joked as she pushed the number for her floor, "I'm sure the two of you will be very happy together!" The door opened and she stepped off, "Just don't forget about the real guys out there?you know the ones that you can actually look in the eye as you talk to them? I?m sure we can find at least one that's a U2 fan. Maybe this Saturday?" she looked at Jessie hopefully as the door shut between them.
Jessie shook her head and pushed the button for her own floor. Pam never seemed to get the hint that she just didn't like bars. The guys in there may be charming for a few hours, but given enough time they invariably reduced themselves to leering goons just trying to cop a feel. Frankly she'd rather stay at home with a good book then allow herself to be groped by total strangers?so she'd keep her online friends and look to her fish for companionship. As the door opened, Jessie walked towards her desk and the mound of paperwork that was awaiting her.
Part Three
* nine months ago*
Jessie quietly closed the door of her apartment and gratefully stepped out of her heels. Nine hours a day on the bloody contraptions were murder on her feet. Wandering across her living room she sank gratefully onto a chair and began to rub her feet, cursing the sadists whoever decided that heels were "professional."
"Huh," she snorted in derision, "professional my arse?for hookers maybe, but not secretaries. My feet are hidden under a desk all day, I don't see why it should matter what I have on my feet." Still rules were rules, and if she wanted to keep this job she'd abide by them. Even if it meant aching feet at the end of the day. Leaning back into the cushions, she let her gaze wander around her newly leased apartment. Now that she'd finally had time to unpack, she had to admit that the tiny living area was looking much better. It was definitely missing something though?a pet maybe? Nothing to hard to take care of though, and nothing that would eat her furniture if she was gone all day. Maybe a fish? The idea made her grin. That was exactly what she needed was something to take care of, and why not a fish? Easy to feed, good listeners and they didn't demand too much attention. As the idea took hold, she got up of the couch and rushed off to change.
A few hours later the Jessie re-entered her apartment and immediately began to set up the ten gallon aquarium the man at the store had sold her. After a few false starts and one unfortunate incident which saw both her and her carpet drenched with water, her little fish had a new home.
"Now all you need is a name!" she told it. The fish swam around and paid her no attention?"let's see, you're gold?how about Goldy?"
The fish continued to swim. "No? Well, maybe something a little more creative? Elvis? He dressed in gold lame?" she checked the fish for a response. Nothing.
"Not Elvis?hmmmm" suddenly it hit her and she snapped her fingers in success, "I've got it! MacPhisto!"
The fish swam to the top of the tank vainly searching for food. "Oh! You like that name do you? Well then!" Jessie exclaimed as she reached for the fish food, "MacPhisto it is!" she sprinkled a few flaked on the top of the water before heading off to the kitchen.
Later that night, having stuffed herself with pizza delivery, Jessie turned on her computer. The new message bar was blinking as she logged onto her favorite site.
Part Four
"So who is this guy anyway Jessie?"
Jessie looked up from her mocha latte to stare at her friend in question. "What guy?"
Laughing at the incredulous expression on Pam's face, she narrowly missed being hit by a flying napkin. "Oh, that guy!" she exclaimed, "he's just some guy I met on the internet. He seems like a decent person, but you never can tell with these people."
Pam raised her eyebrow and looked her coworker over. It had been hard getting to know Jessie over the weeks she'd been here, but after many prodding's and a few not so subtle hints, she had managed to become her friend. Taking their lunch break together was fast becoming a ritual for the two. Pam would chatter inanely about her many boyfriends and ask invasive questions about Jessie's own experiences. So far she hadn't been very successful extracting any real information. She got the feeling that Jessie was either recovering from a bad relationship, or completely without experiences to share. A few more of these latte sessions though and Pam was confident she'd get her friend to open up.
"So, what's his name then? Surely you know that much?" she inquired.
Jessie blushed and looked into her glass?"Bono" she mumbled.
"Excuse me?" Pam asked, "what was that? Did you say Bono?" Jessie nodded and continued to sip at her drink. "From U2?" Jessie's face was now a bright red.
"Well, he's not really Bono," she replied, "I mean it's not like the man doesn't have far better things to do with his time than to chat with his fans. I'm sure it's just some guy using Bono's name?there are quite a few of them on the site." Jessie looked up to catch Pam's reaction.
"So, let me get this straight," Pam said leaning forward on the table, "you'll go online and chat with complete strangers, but you won't go to the bar to pick up guys with me? There's something wrong with this picture Jess."
Jessie laughed, "I like it this way. If you're chatting, you have time to think about your reply, you know read it over and make changes before you send it. If I have to make conversation face to face I freeze up and can't think of anything to say." Pam shook her head.
"Alright honey, you do it your way then?but mark me! One of these days I'm going to get you into a bar. You're so gorgeous the guys won't care if all you say is 'hi'" Pam smiled as her friend self consciously patted her hair.
"If you say so," she mumbled. Personally, she'd always thought her long red hair kind of odd looking. Her freckles more than a little distracting and her eyes so big she looked like one of those Precious Moments dolls, but everytime she tried to explain this Pam just shook her head and refused to listen.
Pam looked at her watch; "We better get back if we don't want to be late." She stood, threw away her empty cup and waited for Jessie before leaving the caf?.
"So where is he from, this Bono?"
Jessie shrugged, "I'm not really sure. He seems to travel a lot with his job. Yesterday he was writing from Seattle and last week he was in New York. He hasn't seemed to stay in one place for more then a few days the whole time I've been talking to him."
"Maybe he's a transient" Pam exclaimed. Jessie looked at her quizzically.
"A transient with internet access? How would that work out?" They were nearing the Smith & Jones Corporation where they worked now and Jessie reached ahead to open the door to the lobby.
"Or maybe he's a trucker!" Pam continued, "Yeah, that's it, he probably travels around the country delivering goods and picking his nose." Jessie laughed.
"I don't care if he's three hundred pounds of redneck blubber" she said, "it's not like I'll ever meet him, and he likes my favorite band, so how bad can he be?" She pushed the call button for the elevator.
"You're right Jessie!" Pam joked as she pushed the number for her floor, "I'm sure the two of you will be very happy together!" The door opened and she stepped off, "Just don't forget about the real guys out there?you know the ones that you can actually look in the eye as you talk to them? I?m sure we can find at least one that's a U2 fan. Maybe this Saturday?" she looked at Jessie hopefully as the door shut between them.
Jessie shook her head and pushed the button for her own floor. Pam never seemed to get the hint that she just didn't like bars. The guys in there may be charming for a few hours, but given enough time they invariably reduced themselves to leering goons just trying to cop a feel. Frankly she'd rather stay at home with a good book then allow herself to be groped by total strangers?so she'd keep her online friends and look to her fish for companionship. As the door opened, Jessie walked towards her desk and the mound of paperwork that was awaiting her.
Please post more.
