Chapter One - Toni
Three o’clock?!
How is that actually possible? I swore I’d stop looking at the clock all day, as it only makes the day take longer, I committed to focusing on my work for a solid hour, then I’d take a look at the clock again and time would be flying by. But, that was apparently only 15 mins ago.
Ugh.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate my job, I mean I don’t love it either, but it almost pays the bills. My excitement is building as this weekend the girls and I are going on a 3 day hike. A few of us used to get out a couple of times a year in college, but this will be our first trip in almost 2 years now. 3 days roughing it under the stars in Dixon National Park
I cannot wait!
I've been stuck in this cubicle typing away, looking out the window and yearning for the chance to get back out in nature, I really need the disconnect. Hiking was something of a passion of mine once, but I haven’t been getting out as much as I used to, life has been getting in the way, as it does. Deadlines to meet, rent to pay, relationship troubles…..let's not even go there.
Once upon a time, I was camping or hiking almost once and month, being a scouts nerd as a kid. But that was when Dad was around. He was the great outdoors-man and my fondest memories are my times camped out with him, around the fire, cracking lame jokes, showing me how to fish, teaching me survival skills.
He was really great. Before everything changed. Before things got weird. All good things come to an end I guess.
Something hitting me in the back of the head, jolts me out of my trip down memory lane. I turn to see Gregory and Ian from finance covering a laugh, that they quickly turn into a fake wave of apology.
"Sorry T, we were playing hackie and it got away from us, can you throw it back?"
Gregory is a co-worker who sits in the cubicle across the aisle and my ex-boyfriend.
I know.
Well, I guess we are going there.
Gregory and I started at Bronson Industries around the same time and became close over our first year of employment. He was actually kind of sweet back then. We didn't know anybody, so we had lunch together everyday, talked about college, our families back home and what our dreams were. We drifted apart as he settled in and made friends with some of the boys from Finance. Five years ago, I made the mistake of sleeping with him at our office xmas party after way too many margaritas had me feeling all nostalgia horny. We dated for a couple of weeks, until I was entering the lunchroom one day and overheard him boasting to his buddies about me, physically miming how he 'taps that big meaty ass'. The sounds of the other guys making grossed out noises, really hurt. But when Gregory said ‘with the lights off of course!’, my heart broke to the sound of their laughter.
Ugh.
Anyway, the girls and I now affectionately refer to him as 'Smegory', cos he had a weird smelling dick.
"Hello, earth to Toni, the hackie sack babe, let's go" Gregory says with a shit eating grin.
"For a start, don't call me babe, you fucking weasel. Secondly, if this thing enters my cubicle again, it's mine"
"She wants your sack Gregster!"
"Shut up Ian, no one’s added 'ster' to the end of a name since 2002, you dork"
Instead of snapping back at me, they both go silent, gazing over my shoulder.
“Surely we have more important things to be doing than distracting my finance team Miss Banks?” Says a deep British accent.
I turn to see my boss standing directly behind me.
“have you finished up-loading the remainder of the Pensky file to the DMS?” he says.
“Yes, Mr Bronson”
“..and I trust that the last of the Sea Rock project files have been archived off to tape and sent to IT for offsite storage?”
“Yes, Mr Bronson, all done”
If you hadn’t noticed, my boss hates me. Instead of being pleased with my progress, he seems disappointed he can’t scold me in front of the others. As has become custom, he looks me up and down with a twist to his mouth, like I’m some kind of invasive species that has somehow infected his ideal workplace. A mutant that should be hidden away.
It’s probably worth pointing out here. I’m not exactly a traditional beauty and definitely not meeting this jerk’s criteria for the ideal woman. His eyes roll down my ample curves, I try my best not to squirm under his gaze, I won’t give him the satisfaction.
I’m not going to sugar coat this, he doesn’t like me because I’m out of shape. Ok, that’s definitely sugar coating, he thinks I’m fat and I disgust him. He’s obviously smart enough not to vocalise this, but it’s clear as day. While I may have spent more time navigating a Netflix menu than a hiking trail of late, I don’t deserve this shit.
I’ve always had a complicated relationship with the girl in the mirror, ever since I was a kid, to quote my mother, ‘you’re not fat dear, your just, on the wrong side of chubby’.
Thanks Mum.
Luckily as I’ve grown older, I’ve made a great group of supportive friends and I’ve made peace with my body. I might be a bit squishy, but I’ve got a killer set of boobs and nice ass. You have to look on the bright side right?
Bronson doesn't seem to share my enthusiasm, he pauses and raises an eyebrow at my David Bowie singlet showing under my unbuttoned purple flannel.
I lift my chin, “Casual Friday, sir”
An awkward silence follows, I catch his eyes flick over to Gregory and Ian, both dressed in full business attire, as he is himself.
“Indeed” He says, clearly growing bored
“I was more concerned about your tattoos Miss Banks” gesturing to my forearms, which house an assortment of pagan-esque sigils I took from my Dad’s notebooks as a way to remember him.
“I believe you have already had a meeting with HR about them? They are to be covered at all times please”
“Yes, sir, apologies, it was a little hot in here today, it slipped my mind” I roll the sleeves down on my flannel, arms now looking creased as all hell.
“And hand me your ball please Toni, this is a workplace, not a playground”. I open my mouth to protest, to tell him it is not my ball, but he cuts me off “you can pick it up from Jill’s desk at five, now get back to work please, I know you have some time off booked, but it’s not the weekend yet”
Crestfallen, I watch him depart our area, throwing the hackie sack up and down with one hand as he struts among the cubicles. He briefly stops at Becky Carmichael’s desk, she’s in the Sustainability Team, If the air in the atmosphere was as clear as the air between her ears, she and her team would be made redundant.
OK, that was mean.
I don’t have any real problem with Becky and I have to admit, she’s freaking stunning. The way Bronson’s face lights up when he see’s her though, creates a familiar pang in my chest, one that I’ve learned to ignore as quick as it arrives. Not that I want that sort of attention from the old letch. But, as I see him leaning cooly against her cubicle, sharing a joke of some kind, flashing a winning smile which I have literally never witnessed first hand. It still makes me feel shitty.
Maybe I am a mutant.
....
Five o’clock finally arrives and it’s time to get out of here.
Freedom calls.
I gather my stuff, but not before I swing past Jill’s desk, who’s Bronson’s personal assistant. On my way out of the office, I flash a smile at the finance boys, tossing the hackie sack up and down, I give them a wink before slotting it into my cleavage and heading for the elevators. The shit eating grins are no where to be seen.
I normally take the bus, as there is a stop across from my office that will get me home in 10 mins, but I decide to walk home and clear my head. The last few hours in the office has put me in a mindset that doesn’t vibe with starting an adventure.
I'm not exactly sure where everything went wrong for me, but it seems like most facets of my life are filled with moments of anxiety and frustration. After leaving college, I was getting a good fitness routine down, I landed the job I wanted, was meeting friends and even had a decent thing going with my mother.
Those days seem like a lifetime ago now.
As I round the final corner on the way home, I decide to stop in for drink at Crofty's. The inspiration for another line in the epic, that is my book of bad decisions.
Crofty's is the bar down the street from my apartment, a great little hole in the wall venue the girls and I call home. It’s got a chill atmosphere, live jazz and an amazing selection of wine.
The owner of the bar is Julien Croft, an absolutely gorgeous man, tall, broad shoulders, short curly brown hair and adorable dimples that dent his lightly stubbled cheeks when he smiles. Of course, I just had to go and sleep with.
I know.
Honestly, Julien wasn't a bad guy. It just clearly wasn't the right time for either of us, I was coming off a bad thing with Smegory, so wasn't myself and Julien was having some problems of his own, namely he couldn't get it up.
Now, I'm not a monster, I didn't give him a hard time over it, I am slowly approaching something that resembles an adult, but this was a first for me. On four separate occasions a night out with the girls, saw us staying past closing time, with Julien letting us stay, sharing war stories over some of the more exotic items on his wine list. We just hit it off right away. One such night saw us stumbling back to my apartment and tearing each others clothes off. It was hot as fuck, until is wasn’t. The first time he wasn't, uh, ready to play, we laughed about it. I reassured him that it happens and we just hung out, made some instant ramen and watched old re-runs of Buffy. I really saw potential in that moment, despite the awkward circumstances, it was nice, comfortable even. The very next weekend, the night unfolded predictably and round two was underway.
Nope.
Two weeks later round three, this time, there was no ramen and re-runs. Julien was getting visibility stressed and left right away with a dimple-less apology that kinda broke my heart a little. I was determined to turn this guys frown upside down, so I decided maybe drinking before hand wasn't doing either of us any favours, so we left the girls early and went out on a proper date, grabbed some food, caught a movie (a spicy romcom to keep things upbeat). When the night ended in disappointment this time, both our frustrations sort of boiled over. I was flustered and horny and right about the time I developed an RSI from pumping his long limp cock (he was definitely a shower), I’d begun letting my insecurities creep in and gnaw at me, which was the worst time for Julien to finally lash out and imply that maybe he wasn’t the problem.
Although obviously a bad idea, I couldn’t help myself but press him on that comment and he told me that I ‘barely let him touch me and I always have the light off. It’s just not sexy’.
Ouch.
In hindsight, maybe there was some truth to that, but for obvious reasons, it just struck too close to home.
I do understand the stress of the situation and was genuinely feeling for him until this point, but in that moment, in the head space I was in, it got pretty ugly. I said things that made me feel shitty, he said things that made me feel shitty. So, that was the end of Julien Croft. I was miserable for weeks, in my mind I’d met yet another guy that started out great, but once sex was involved, it quickly crumbled.
‘It’s just not sexy.’
Am I that un-fuckable?
Of course the girls were there to pick me up and now kindly refer to him as Julien Soft.
Which he definitely doesn't deserve, but you haven't met my friends yet.
In an effort to not lose our local spot, they insisted we continue to drink there because “Julien may own the bar, but it's your fucking bar!". Over time Julien and I have made peace, and while the girls and I leave at last call now, it’s still our regular home base.
Which I guess is a solid result in a hard situation. That…came out very wrong, but you get what I mean.
Jesus, I need to get laid.
As I walk in, I see Julien behind the bar serving a regular, he looks in my direction and I give him a cringe worthy smile and wave, which he returns with a weird formal nod. Fuck my life. I head to our regular booth and order a Malbec from the waitress as my phone rings.
“I am packed up and ready to fucking go T, let’s Dora the Explorer this shit, Woo!”
The ‘woo girl’ you are witnessing is Jessica Ford, she’s about the coolest damn person I know and is trouble incarnate. She’s the mastermind behind Greg and Julien’s nicknames and is a general menace to men everywhere. Her most recent diabolical scheme was sending a $200 Doordash order from Crofty’s kitchen to Greg’s house during lockdown.
Ian was with Greg that night and after heated words on the door step, snatched the bag of food and threw it at Julian, which he threw straight back, until the three of them were engaged in some sick covid-spaghetti version of mud wrestling. Of course, Jess was filming the whole thing in her car across the street, like some evil millennial detective on a stake out. This footage is now legendary and a regular film choice when I’m feeling down and Jess stays over.
What can I say, she’s a beautiful mess and my best friend.
“Hey Jess! I am so pumped. But damn, you’re keen, we don’t leave until 10 am tomorrow, I thought it would be at least 9:45 until you started packing” I say, baiting the response I know is coming
“Ha ha and fuck you. Smart ass girl scout, can’t a bitch ‘be prepared’ without copping flack? Anyways, as I’m all ready to go, I was thinking, crash at yours and we can leave together tomorrow, save us some time in the morning?” I hear the tone in her voice implying she means us to be waking up with a headache.
“Sounds good Jess, I’m at Crofty’s, come around and we’ll head up later and finish packing”
“Drinks at Softy’s, lets fucking go!” She yells
“Ugh, are you really calling it that forever? You know what? Never mind, stupid question. We can only have a couple tonight though Jess, I’ve still got all my clothes to pack and I have to double check the ‘shit we need to not die in the woods’ checklist. Dana and Molly all good?”
“Yep, just checked in with them, all set, they’ll be ready out front of their apartment at ten” She answers, clearly impressed with herself.
“Look at you, all organised, I love it. Now, shut up and get moving, I’m slowly dying inside drinking here alone”
“I’ll be there in two shakes of a limp willy” she chirps
I choke on my Malbec a little, coughing as she hangs up laughing.
Julien shoots me a stern puzzled look that only makes things worse, threatening to bring on a laughing fit.
As I slowly recover, wishing the world would swallow me up, I think of the ways I’m going to make Jess pay for that.