All posts for the month January, 2013

Kiki fights with Kim

Published January 30, 2013 by Johanna

I’ve gathered all the bottles of liquor in a plastic bag and tossed them with utmost conviction down the chute. On my way back to the apartment, I run into Kim. Kim and I used to be friends. I say used to because now we hate each other’s guts to the point I want to punch her in the face every time I think of her. Yeah, it’s that bad.

Let me explain how the relationship deteriorated so quickly. I met Kim a few years ago at a work function. Still married at the time, I didn’t have many friends and especially, no female ones. Kim and I quickly realized we had a lot in common, i.e. drinking. We spent tons of time together – I even called her my partner in crime. There was nothing we didn’t do. I drank a lot more than she did and I finished all the bottles of hard liquor. I collected numbers in my phone and hooked up with guys for the sake of proving to myself I was the hot stuff. I put myself in dangerous situations. Slept around, found my way home at four in the morning, and spent the next day hungover and feeling like a slut. I did things I’m now ashamed of, but Kim condoned everything. Nothing I did could possibly be wrong. No one was a saint. I didn’t grow up a slut and became one because she didn’t give me the tough love I needed.

I realized Kim wasn’t good for me after a couple of years but I disregarded my instincts, because she had been a constant in my life since my separation. I thought she had my back. I loved her and trusted her.

She started acting weird after she hooked up with a guy who treated her like garbage. The guy is a player. He fucks whatever comes his way. He drinks all the time, therefore has become completely numb to any feeling of remorse or guilt. I think he lives in denial but who am I to judge? I live in denial too.

I thought Kim would stop seeing this guy, but she didn’t. The friendship soon revolved around her mood swings anytime the guy didn’t give her enough attention – which was never – and after a while I simply had enough. I drank heavily, ended arguing with her and punching her in the face – for real.

The falling out led her to diss me to all the people I knew. Everyone shunned me in a matter of days. I found myself isolated. No one cared about me. The heavy drinking I did with her worsened. What was my normal reaction to the shunning?

I don’t need people to be around when I drink. I am perfectly able to do it on my own.

If I get my hands on a bottle of scotch, I can down it over a weekend. Tough drinker? I’m proud to say I can hold my liquor. I don’t even feel drunk half the time. A bottle is an average. Two bottles a celebration. Three – a special occasion. How could I withstand so much given I’m a lightweight? I have no idea. How didn’t I die from alcohol poisoning? A miracle.

Even today, my consumption of booze was too much. I think I’m barely recovering from it. Of course, seeing Kim after months of not talking immediately hits the wrong nerve. And reminds me of how violent I can become in a split second.

Deep breath. If I ignore her, she’ll disappear. It’s not my fault we live in the same building because I came up with the brilliant idea we should be neighbors too. Gosh, how stupid I was.

I don’t even look at her in the eyes, but still notice she changed her hair color. She picked the tackiest tone on the dye spectrum. What has she become? A whore?

And here goes the judgment again.

I hope she doesn’t say something to me because I don’t know how I’m gonna react if she opens her stupid mouth. Let’s focus on something nice instead, like a walk on the beach or a cute puppy jumping up and down. I don’t know why I always think of puppies when I need a distraction. Maybe I should get myself one. Once my lease expires, I’ll put that on my to do list.

Alright. Puppy. Not Kim. Puppy. Puppy. Bark. Wags his tail. Cute as a button. Puppy.

“Hey Kiki, you got a minute?”

Crap. No, I don’t have a minute, or a second to spare when it comes to you, bitch. I let out a deep breath. Should I really start a fight in the hallway?

“I don’t wanna talk to you.” Woah, look at me playing tough.

She smiles, and I hear condescension in her tone. “That’s alright, I respect that.”

I turn around and start walking away. “Good, have a good one then.”

“I thought we needed closure, you know, after what happened,” she continues.

I stop my stride and exhale deeply again. “I don’t need closure. I’m great as is.”

“All due respect, you don’t look great. In fact, I was worried about you.”

“Oh really?” I laugh. “You’re taking comedy classes? Because you’ve become very funny today.”

She stares at me like a deer caught in the headlights.

“If you were so concerned about me, why didn’t you come sooner? Let me guess. I wasn’t number one on your priority list, huh? How’s Dave by the way? Still screwing the loser?” I sneer.

She should have kept her mouth shut because the beast has been unleashed.

She throws me a glance full of consternation. “Dave is none of your business.”

I laugh again. “Of course, he was until my fist made contact with your fat face, but since then, the loser belongs to the past, huh?”

She throws her hands in the air and huffs. “Alright I see you’re in no mood to talk. I’ll leave you alone. I just wanted to be a good neighbor. I didn’t have any mean intentions. Have a good day.”

“Right. Have fun with your lovely asshole of a hookup and stay the fuck away from me. You’re a liar and a backstabber. I don’t need you in my life. In fact I would punch you again right now because you make me so mad. Go fuck yourself Kim!”

I’m boiling inside. I want to beat her up so bad, it’s hard to resist the temptation. I don’t wanna get sued afterwards. But she seriously deserves a beating.

“I have no time for this!” she whines.

“Oh yeah, well I thought you needed closure. So here it is, handed to you on a silver platter. I never wanna talk to you again. Got it?”

Can she see smoke coming from my nostrils? Because I’m fuming.

I cast her a glance full of defiance and she glares in return, of course, she’s so stupid, her glare looks more like a confused stare because she can’t imagine why I’m feeling that way about her. She never did anything wrong, you guys! I attacked her. I was the unstable one! And then the bitch says she knew all along I suffered from psychological problems.

Why did you push my buttons if you were such a gifted shrink?

I walk back to my apartment, ready to punch a mega hole in my wall. But the bitch won’t win. She can get me angry, furious even, I don’t care anymore. I’m done playing games.

Kim is dead to me. Yet, like I know her so well, she’s harder to get rid of than an STD so I can count on the fact she’ll bother me again.


To be continued…


Kiki goes home

Published January 28, 2013 by Johanna

I have no idea how I made it through, but I can finally go home. I haven’t heard from John since he caught me with the bottle of scotch. I feel quite crappy about the whole situation. While packing my stuff, I realize the guilt trip won’t really change much. I gotta take responsibility for the monster I’ve become. Easier said than done, obviously.

John must have left already. His cubicle is empty. I’d lie if I said I don’t feel disappointed. The affection I have for the boy is starting to become obsessive. Something I’m gonna work on eventually. Right now, I think of jumping on the subway and reaching my apartment quickly. Usually I’d get my bottle of scotch and drink. Not tonight. I’m not going to indulge in getting myself drunk. It never led me anywhere.

Lord, it’s cold outside. My nose is gonna fall off if I don’t cover my face with my scarf. I’d need some comfort somewhere warm, maybe with someone nice. Ha, who am I kidding? Not the time to long for a relationship. I have enough on my plate. Plus we all know where the last relationship got me. Nowhere. Pretty much down the drinking road.

Look at John. Even if he says he cares about me, he still left work without saying goodbye. Selfish bastard. I’m all alone in this. As always.

Sigh. Come on. Get a grip. You didn’t use to feel this way a few years ago. You lost all your standards as soon as you got married. You tried drugs for the first time, became a pothead, then an alcoholic. You abused pain killers and lost yourself having horrible sex with stupid guys. None of what happened was your fault. You were maybe too hard on yourself. But you have hope. Find yourself again. Have faith.

The subway ride feels like a blur, and I almost miss my stop. I’m so lost in my thoughts, I don’t know how to stop being so sad. Life doesn’t give me what I’m looking for. No true friends to rely on. No family to support me. I need to relieve the pressure of loneliness with a few drinks or a joint sometimes. My job doesn’t provide me with much joy either. So what do I have left if I don’t drink or get high on a regular basis? I don’t see the point of living all together if I find pleasure in nothing at all. I enjoy baseball and hockey, yet I rarely go to a game without drinking way too much cheap beer for way too much money.

There’s really no solution to this. I can think of everything as much as I want, I always come to the same conclusion. Simple things most ordinary people like don’t make me happy. I can’t fit in a category. I didn’t grow up that way. I often feel alone, even if I’m surrounded by a million people. New York City will do that to you after a while. Wrong place? I just want to be happy again. Or if this goal is unattainable, less miserable.

John can’t relate because he’s young and he still has friends. He didn’t burn all bridges because he couldn’t settle for crappy relationships. I’m so dissatisfied, and expect the best all the time. Fuck the job, fuck the romantic relationships. I only want to love myself again, and have dreams that will make me smile.

Too much stress. I’ve become my own support system, and I can’t take it anymore. But if I cry for help, will anyone come to my rescue? I doubt it.

Even a vacation won’t change the fact I’m lonely. Just like a superhero, I have too much strength and one fatal weakness. Being alone doesn’t make me happy. Being alone kills me. I need to stay busy to forget the solitude that has invaded my life since the divorce. But working constantly isn’t what I need.

Lord. I should find peace somewhere. Look at a glass of wine and appreciate the taste without losing my sanity in the process. Am I able to find such balance in the end?

Right now, I don’t think I can handle the drinking without getting depressed. Negative thoughts are too overwhelming. They control everything, my emotions are disproportionate. I go from feeling ecstatic to feeling completely down. My nerves can’t take all the stress. I cry, I laugh, I behave like a maniac.

John shouldn’t witness my mood swings. That was never his job. As caring as he pretends to be, I can’t dump all my problems on him like he’s my shrink. I need to talk to someone who’s a stranger to my daily business. Someone who won’t judge me. Someone who can offer an objective point of view.

I say that now and tomorrow I’ll change my mind all over again. Because my pride will take over and convince me I’m perfectly fine on my own. And then I’ll feel angry against the whole wide world because I’ve been let down. The victim of a birth I didn’t choose and must cope with every day.

Will anything ever improve? Is sobriety the solution? I’ve never been sober. I’m always high on something. That’s how I learned to live for the past ten years. I was completely anti-drugs as a teenager. When my first love made me forget all about my morals, I started experimenting. Hash. Weed. E. Coke. Scotch. I did so much because I couldn’t deal with my life the way it was, I thought I had found a great way to be artificially happy. I realize now I self-medicated a lot. Even today, it was foolish of me to believe I could drink at the office like it was the most normal thing in the world.

I’m not superhuman. I have feelings too. Once I pass the threshold of my apartment, I’m gonna have to get rid of all the bottles of liquor I started collecting. That’d be a good start I guess. And John says he wants to buy them half price, but I can’t bring myself to keeping these bottles any longer.

The decision has been taken. I’m done with booze.


To be continued…

John doesn’t tell the truth

Published January 24, 2013 by Johanna

I didn’t like to drink coffee for the longest time. The smell and especially the taste never agreed with me. But now, I really enjoy it. Plus John is paying so it’s even more enjoyable.

As I sip on my coffee, I think of what my life would be like without alcohol. It’s so easy to crack a bottle open and forget everything. I’ve gotten used to using scotch to take the edge off. Even weed doesn’t help me the same. When I’m drunk I can still behave. I still feel smart, actually, I feel smarter.

Shit. I’m obsessing. Even sex doesn’t help me stop the craving. I got to focus. John will make for a great distraction.

“Thanks for lending an ear. And a shoulder,” I say.

“Of course. Are you feeling better?”

“Not sure. I just don’t know. It’s difficult. Life isn’t how I envisioned it. This city especially. So hard.” I sigh.

I won’t cry again. Even if my heart feels heavy inside my chest. John has seen enough of my misery today. He smiles because he doesn’t know what else to do. I get it. It’s hard to empathize with my problems. Especially at twenty-two.

“Maybe you need a vacation. Have you thought about it?” John says.

I’m distracted by a group of teenage girls sitting at a table next to us. They look like life has never been better. They keep laughing every two minutes. Their conversation is about guys – of course – and right now, I wish I were one of these girls. My worries at sixteen didn’t seem so bad. I’d rather handle immature teenage boys than my ex-husband. Lord. I should stop thinking about my divorce all together.

“A vacation huh? I have nowhere to go. And no one to go with.” I sigh again. Pathetic me.

John scratches his head, looking for something comforting to say.

“I know, I’m lame,” I add.

He laughs. “No, it happens. Listen I feel bad. I just wish you didn’t have to go through this.”

“Yeah me too. Life doesn’t give a warning.”

“We should get back to work. They’re gonna wonder where we went,” he says after checking his watch.

“Like I care. It doesn’t really matter.” I chug the rest of my coffee. “Fine. Let’s go.”

I drag my feet back to the office. The last thing I want is to sit back at my desk and do work. Can I take the week off instead?

John leaves me at my door before returning to his cubicle. “Are you gonna be alright?” he asks.

I nod. No reason to put a bigger burden on him and make him worry. I even force a smile to show him I’m okay, but as he steps away, I feel the dread breaking havoc inside me. Quickly, I vanish inside and lock the door behind me. Soon enough, tears run down my face like a torrent. Man, I’m getting seriously depressed.

I never wanted to get help and chat with a shrink before. Now the idea doesn’t sound so absurd anymore. What does that make me? Crazy? But the bad kind of crazy. The one who gets institutionalized in a straitjacket and takes tons of drugs that make “normal” people feel loopy.

Grabbing my head between my hands, I pray for the crying to stop. I should talk to someone. John? He’s heard enough. My mom? Gosh anyone but her. Am I really all alone in this world?

This thought makes me want to drink again. The scotch is back in the drawer. Pulling it open, I stare at the bottle for a very long time, breathing in and out, pondering whether I should just have a little sip.

John lied. I can’t exercise moderation. I’m just too powerless. My emotional pain is too strong, beating inside my chest instead of my heart. I grab the bottle. Unscrew the cap. The familiar smell reaches my nostrils and I breathe in the scent. My eyes closed, I feel my mouth salivate. I bring the bottle to my lips. One sip. I only need one sip.

“No!” I hear John shout and as I reopen my eyes, watch him snatch the bottle from my hand. I lose my balance and my butt is the first to meet the floor.

“What are you doing?” John asks, and I sense he’s mad at me.

“What does it look like? I’m knitting a sweater,” I answer.

He grabs me by the arm and pulls me up. “Why are you here anyway?” I spit.

He is staring at me with his big blue eyes, and I feel like crap because he’s seeing right through to me. I can’t hide anything from him anymore. He knows my weakness now. I look away.

“I forgot something,” he blurts.


He puts his arms in the air in surrender. “You’re right, I lied a lot to you today. I wanted to check on you.”

I smirk. “So admit it, you wanna get inside my pants. You wouldn’t worry about my well-being otherwise.”

He doesn’t say anything.


“You want me to tell you the truth?”


“Will you ever accept the fact I genuinely care about you?”

I take a deep breath. He looks genuinely concerned, yet again, I know I have a tendency to idolize people a bit too much, which often plays in my disfavor.

“For real?” I ask.

He nods. “I’m taking the bottle away from you. And tonight when you get home, no drinking. Promise?”

He presents his hand at me, the pinky raised in the air.

“Alright.” My pinky meets his and now I’m bound to a promise I didn’t even have the courage to make to myself. What does that make me? A coward?

“I’m going now. You’ll be good?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” I’m gonna repeat “yeah” inside my head a couple more times just to convince myself I’m actually okay.

“Good. I’ll see you later.”

I nod. Once John is gone, I close the door and exhale deeply. The journey to sobriety has just begun but I can already tell that it’s gonna suck.


To be continued…

Kiki takes a walk

Published January 22, 2013 by Johanna

“Do you think I have a problem?” John and I have been strolling on the street for two minutes now.

He throws me a questioning look. “What do you mean?”

“A drinking problem,” I answer.


“Well that didn’t sound very encouraging.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant you know that. I just don’t know whether you have a problem. That’s all.”

I sigh. “Right.”

We keep walking in silence. So many people are outside despite the freezing weather. The office is also located in a very busy area, always crawling with tourists and commuters. The wind suddenly blows so hard, it cuts my ears like paper. I bury my head inside the hood of my jacket. Winters in New York are always so brutal. Efficient way to sober up quicker though.

“I should stop drinking for a while,” I finally say. “If I look at another bottle of scotch I’m gonna cry.”

John glances at me. “Well if you don’t want your scotch I’ll buy it from you… Let’s say half retail price?”

“You serious?”

He nods.

“Wow okay. I guess that kills any temptation. I still have a lot of wine though.”

“I’ll buy everything you don’t want. And if you go out, you only have a drink, not a bottle.”

I nod. “Yeah, I think I’m gonna have to use a lot of positive reinforcement for a while.”

“I can help.”

I look at him, my heart melting inside my chest, and smile. Does he say that because he wants to get in my pants or is he really being genuine? Men are pigs. They cannot not think about getting in my pants, just saying.

“You are twenty-two. All you do is party. How are you gonna handle my journey to sobriety?” I ask.

“We can drink virgin margaritas.”

I laugh.

“Yeah but no virgin scotch. Unfortunately.” I sigh. “I’m gonna have to quit the drinking like I did with smoking. Took me years though. Gosh.”

He pats my back. “That’s okay. One day at a time. Why do you wanna get sober anyway? You can’t quit cold turkey. The secret is to exercise moderation.”

I snort. “Easier said than done, pal.”

“You’re right. I have no idea what you’re going through. But I can empathize.”

I don’t say anything. Right now all I wanna do is cry. I’m just not in a good shape. Snap out of it damn it! Feeling sorry for myself won’t help. I try to think of something nice, like a walk on the beach, or a cute puppy jumping up and down. Usually these thoughts would lift my spirit, but right now I can’t focus. I’m just feeling so sad.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me John.” I look away when I say that, because tears are welling in my eyes.

“Okay, now I’m worried,” John comments.

“Because I called you by your Christian name?”

He slightly nods. Unable to suppress a laugh, I quickly wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. As much as I care for John, I don’t want to cry in front of him. Anything but being a sissy, especially now.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

Feeling more tears coming up, I take a deep breath. It’s getting incredibly hard for me to speak. John is staring at me, concern painted all over his face. I try to say something but words can’t come out. It’s like a wall has built up inside my throat.

“I don’t know whether I can do it,” I finally say, choking on my tears.

John’s face reads like an open book and I can tell he doesn’t know what to do.

I shake my head in surrender. “It’s okay, I’m just having a moment,” I apologize.

“No, no, it’s not okay. I just don’t understand what’s going on with you. What can’t you do?”

“I’m – I’m unable to deal with my life, John! The divorce killed me. It destroyed me. I am worthless! Oh god.”

I break down. John can only hug me and I cry on his shoulder. The immense pain that fills my heart seems bigger than me, and I feel it in every fiber of my body. It’s aching, and stinging, burning and freezing, cooling and warming. I hate myself for being so weak. I want to run away, hide and vanish from the surface of the Earth. But John is holding me so tight and I can’t let go. As I cry more, the anguish subsides and I can finally breathe normally again.

My eyes still full of tears, I look up to him and sniffle.

“There’s nothing sexy about watching me cry,” I mumble.

He smiles. “I honestly don’t care about that right now. Why don’t we have coffee?”

I snort. “Are you being nice with me because you want to get in my pants?”

He laughs. “Stop it. You don’t need to hear me say yes to you right now, do you?”

“Tell me!”

“Not the place, not the time. Come on. We need something to warm up. It’s freezing out here.”

I reluctantly nod. I thought John would spill the beans. We walk toward the exit.

“Maybe one day you’ll tell me,” I say with a wink.

He laughs. “Stop it. I’d start getting offended if I didn’t know you were joking.”

“Who said I was joking?”

There’s a Starbucks across the street. We wait for the light to turn green. John doesn’t say anything, blankly staring ahead, lost in his thoughts.

“Next time just avoid the talk about the pregnant girlfriend,” I say.



We cross the street and enter the Starbucks. The line is long as always. I love when service is slow.

“Why so grumpy?” John asks.

“Not in the mood.”

“Come on, it’s on me.”

“Yeah, if it’s on you, then expect me to be confused about your intentions about my pants.”

He rubs my shoulder with his hand and I grow convinced he’s just pretending not to have any intentions at all, but being a guy, he simply can’t help himself.

“How about we get coffee first and talk about my intentions later?” he smirks.

I grunt. “Patience has never been my forte. But fine. I’ll grant you a pass this time.”

“Thank you madam.”

I have no clue what he wants, and I also have no clue what I want. John needs to give me some room to breathe. Ugh. Why must life be so complicated?


To be continued…

Kiki falls asleep (and John wakes her up)

Published January 20, 2013 by Johanna

“Hey, are you okay? Hey!”

I open my eyes and find myself face to face with John. His hand is on my arm, and he’s smiling at me. What the?

I jerk backwards. “If you’re part of my dream, I’m telling you right away, get out! I don’t wanna see you. You piss me off!”

“Dude you fell asleep on your desk, and I found this.” He’s waving the bottle of scotch in my face.

I grab my head between my hands and sigh. “So you’re the buzz kill police?”

“What is going on with you?”

I snort. “Alright, this question comes from the guy who impregnated his imaginary girlfriend. I don’t know. You tell me.”

He scowls. “I do have a girlfriend.”

I stand up, my face very close to his. “What’s her name?”

He puffs. “This is none of your business.”

“Ha! I’m not asking you her bra size! You’re such a piece of shit. Just leave me be.” I sit back down and turn my back at him.

“Alright. I don’t have a girlfriend. I ran outside to get you a birthday cake. Happy?”

My jaw drops. “You’re serious?”

He nods. “And the whole floor is there to wish you a happy thirtieth.”



I jump off my seat. “Okay make the bottle disappear. I’m gonna freshen up. I’m sure my breath stinks.”

He nods again.

“Thanks for the encouragement. You’re supposed to suck it up to me, minion.”

“No time for being nice. I’m pulling you out of this office and you won’t slur or say something insulting. Promise?”

I give him a nice long angry stare before sighing really loud. “Aren’t you the young crazy pothead too cute for his own good – when did you become so boring?”

John grabs my arm and shakes me slightly. “Enough. You’re acting like a child. Come on. Let’s have some cake.”

Probably the alcohol talking, but I like when John’s acting rough with me. Makes him sexier in my darkest fantasies. Good Lord, how much scotch did I drink in the span of an hour? I stop before John opens the door. “I can’t. I’m too wasted.”

“Don’t pull a Kiki on me. Aren’t you the one with all the experience and the skills?” John says with a raised eyebrow.

“Shit. The student outsmarts the master. Well done, minion.”

“Stop calling me like that. I’m a private and you’re a veteran. That was the plan.”

“Lord, I don’t know what happened since your fatherhood scare but you’ve grown a serious pair.”

John rolls his eyes and opens the door.

“Where is everybody?” I ask.

“The conference room. You got two minutes to brush your teeth and powder your nose,” John says.

“Okay then let’s go!”

I drag him to the ladies room. “Are you serious?” John shuts the door and looks completely panicked.

“Gimme a break. It isn’t your first time in a ladies’ stall. I need you if I get sick. Come on.”

He looks even more terrified. “I won’t make you watch me pee.” I laugh. “Although I’m not gonna lie, the idea crossed my mind.”

“Why?” he replies with a grimace of utmost disgust like I’m making him eat his own vomit or something.

“I enjoy to make you suffer,” I wink. “Come on, give your boss some privacy, will you?”

He nods. After I’m done, I walk up to the sink. Gosh I really look like shit. Beauty rest – what a joke. I won’t be able to fix my appearance with mere makeup. I need a Britney Spears makeover. I sigh.

“What’s wrong?” John asks.

“I hate to be old.”

“Come on quit the crap. You aren’t old.”

I face him and scowl. “I’m older than you.”

He nods. “No shit Sherlock. And I’m older than my three-year old nephew. Come on. Are you ready for some cake?”

I smile. John always knows what to say to cheer me up. Why must he be so young? And why can’t he be working at Starbucks so I can hit on him every day when getting my venti soy latte? The coworker thing isn’t very practical when it comes to dating. Yet again, John is too young. Way too young. He grabs my arm and we exit the ladies room.

“Thanks for waking me up,” I whisper to him as we approach the conference room.

He gives me a pat on the back. “Anytime.”

He opens the door and a crowd shouts “Surprise!!”.

John vanishes when I look for him for moral support. Busy cutting the cake? Snap, here comes Mary with a flute of champagne – cheap stuff I don’t know how my stomach will handle after my scotch binge.

“I got the report, thank you,” she says with a forced smile.

“Oh good.” Always loved people who can’t talk about anything else but work.

We clink glasses. I watch John be nice with the other people on the other side of the room. Gosh. He looks really cute.

Mary suddenly vanished and someone comes up to me and gives me a hug. Carmen from accounting.

“Happy birthday mami!!” The hug is followed by two kisses on the cheek.

“Thanks,” I say. The hug was already too much.

“How do you feel?”

Like shit. Oh, I’m sure she wants me to say I feel great. Turning thirty is a blast! Yeah. Right.

“I’m good. You know same old.”

“Aw but today should feel better than yesterday! You look amazing. A new man in your life?” she winks like we’re best friends.

“No man. I don’t exclude women though. All are welcome.”

If she thinks I look great because I get tons of sex, she’s seriously mistaken.

“Mami, you should come out with me next time! I’ll find you a nice Portorican man… Juicy, strong, perfect for your delicate taste buds.”

The thought of dealing with a man like a piece of steak sounds strangely unappealing.

“Thanks Carmen. I appreciate your relentless efforts in setting me up with one of your cousins. I’ll let you know next time I’m starving…”

I feel a hand on my shoulder. John. “Carmen, hi! How are you? You mind if I steal Kiki for one second?”

John at the rescue! His ravenous smile puts her at ease and she scoots away, instead of giving me the evil eye.

“What happened to you and not to be insulting?”

I throw him my best innocent look despite knowing my hand has been caught in the cookie jar.

“What did I say?”

“You know.”

“Pfff yeah right. She deserved it. She always does that. Drives me nuts!”

“Just be nice. Come on it’s your birthday.”

I sigh. “I’m better as a bitch than as a nice person, you should know that by now.”

He grabs my shoulder and squeezes the muscle gently. “Stop it. Have some cake.”

He hands me a paper plate with a mountain of vanilla ice cream on top of another mountain of chocolate crumbles. Who cut the goddamn cake? My look must have said everything because John gives me another “Just stuff your face with cake already”, which I do. Despite looking like shit, this cake actually tastes decent. Still I would have preferred lunch.

My other minion Ishmael comes up to me and smiles with all his teeth. Gosh I’ve never understood how a twenty-three-year old can still wear braces. Better late than never I guess.

“Happy birthday Kiki.”

“Thanks.” Not feeling like being social right now, I hand him my plate. “Here have some cake.”

“Oh thanks.” Not really knowing what to do with it, he keeps holding the plate and glances around to see where he can drop it without anyone seeing.

“You’re really pushing it,” John says.

I shrug. “Lactose intolerant. That’s all.”

He laughs. Gosh, how much I love to hear John laugh. Okay, snap out of it. Enough with the crush and everything else, get your act together woman!

“That’s nice of you to throw me a party.” I say.

“You’re welcome.”

“I’m quite the party animal, you know.”

He laughs again.

“I’m gonna go have some more sparkling wine.”

He nods. “You do that.”

I start walking but stall after a few steps. I turn around and look at him. “Actually I’m not gonna drink more. Bad for the skin and stuff.”

He smiles. “Self-conscious I see.”

I nod. “Always.” Browsing the room, I watch people talk over a piece of cake. It’s nice to see them take a break and enjoy each other’s company. I’m always so secluded in my office – rarely talking to anyone besides John. I need to kill the routine.

“Lost in your thoughts?” John is staring at me. I think I’m going to blush.

“Yeah. Yeah.” I can’t think of something to say. “I should go for a walk.”

I leave the room. John doesn’t follow me right away. When I glance back at him he realizes he should proceed and catches up to me very quickly. His long legs give him a serious speed advantage. He gently grabs my arm and brings my stride to a stop in less than five seconds.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

I smile. “Yeah, why?”

“Your eyes… There’s something eerie about them.”

His words make me laugh. “Eerie huh? Wow. Okay.”

“Yeah. Are you thinking about something weird?”

I throw him a suspicious look. “Weird? I always think about weird stuff, you know that.”

He glances behind him and lowers his voice. “No, not that weird. You know…”

I raise an eyebrow. “No, I don’t.”

He brushes the air with his hand. “Nevermind. I think I need a walk too now.”

I smile. He’s way too damn cute.

“So let’s go,” I say, and we pace toward the elevator bank.


To be continued…

Kiki’s in a better mood (somewhat)

Published January 5, 2013 by Johanna

John has managed to upset me above and beyond what I thought was possible. Had I not been so busy developing new marketing strategies for the company, I’d have already handed my frustrated resignation. Kidding. I so don’t care about my job but like every pathetic human being not lucky enough to have won the lottery or be the sole beneficiary of a multi-million dollar trust fund, I need something to pay my bills. And since drug dealing has never been my forte…

The job is one thing I don’t give a flying banana about, but I do care about John. What did he mean with the whole girlfriend is pregnant business? I thought he didn’t have a girlfriend. This lying son of a bitch was just pretending to be interested in me. Not that it matters. Does it matter? Well I must admit, I like the guy. He’s cute. And smart. And funny. And I am the biggest thirty-year-old moron on this planet.

Enough shenanigans. I always keep a bottle of scotch in the bottom left drawer of my desk for emergencies. This is an emergency. I always wanted to try being drunk at work. Time for a first.

I grab the bottle and unscrew the cork. Sixteen-year-old single malt, smells like the sweetest thing in the world. No, I’m not an alcoholic. I just learned to appreciate life at an early age. Very early – oh crap give me a break already. I take a nice long swig. Perfect remedy especially on an empty stomach. The alcohol warms my throat and my mouth is on fire. Whoo! This is what I’m talking about. The familiar dizziness doesn’t take long to settle inside my brain, wiping my thoughts almost immediately. My heartbreak over John seems a distant memory now. I feel happy and calm. I take another swig. A few glutinous gulps until the taste overwhelms my senses and I must put the bottle down.

Ah. Satisfied, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. No way I’m gonna be productive for the rest of the day. Like I really give a damn at this point. Too tipsy to stand, I sit on my chair and recline it all the way. The ceiling is spinning. I close my eyes and draw a deep breath. It’s so quiet. Too quiet. I need music. Browsing through my Internet radio playlist, I look for an upbeat song. Do I want techno? Or plain metal?

In the end I pick Kim by Eminem. Yeah, well, I have some anger issues to deal with too sometimes. There’s nothing like Eminem when he used to rap high on prescription meds. I love the guy. Fine he’s maybe a douche, but he’s a talented douche. Many of them are I realize. Sigh. John is a talentless assmunch. Why am I still thinking about him? Ah yes, because he “dumped” me for his imaginary girlfriend. Imaginary pregnant girlfriend.

I need more Scotch. I smile at the thought my mom told me I’d die in ten years if I keep drinking like that. I don’t drink like that all the time mom! And like she scolds me but she ain’t so saint either.

Shiiiiit I feel good. Scotch has always been my friend. My only friend. I let my head drop on my desk as I hug the bottle. Fuck John and whoever else he’s fucking too. I don’t need him to celebrate my birthday. I can throw a pretty decent party all by myself.

Argh Eminem is getting on my nerves!! I need something more eerie like Nightwish. Never been into Nightwish until now. Why am I in such an awful mood – like I could really hope to ever date John someday. That stuff happens only in stupid chick flicks. I’m better than that. Smarter. I made enough bad experiences to repeat the same mistakes. John is not the answer to my problems. He’s another piece of meat I’d like to shag because I’m desperately lonely.

Crap. Am I really gonna have to browse through a few victims on Plenty of Fish? I’ve never done that either. I usually always managed to find sex toys in bars. Not even good toys. They barely did the job.

Shit. I pound my fist on the top of the desk. I was supposed to stop the bootie call business. I’m too old for this crap. Where are the nice guys? Right. Taken. By bitches most of the time.

I grab the bottle and start a staring contest with the label. I’m gonna defeat you stupid mood. Drunk or sober, John and his lies won’t ruin my birthday. A few more gulps down and I’ve accomplished my mission. Oh yeah.

My mind in a fog I suddenly hear the phone. Beautiful. I’m perfectly able to speak to whoever is calling – can’t read the caller ID on the screen though. M-A-R-Y? Oh right. From customer relations.

“Mary, what’s up? I’m really busy so please make it brief.” Being drunk makes me bossy. No big deal. I’m pretty sure Mary won’t notice. I’m awesome at keeping my bitchy attitude wasted. A skill I developed over the years. Takes a while to adjust and like any good training must be maintained with a lot of discipline.

“Kiki, I’m looking for the latest report you sent me but can’t seem to find it. Would you mind re forwarding it to me?”

Um now I have to look for a bloody report. Beautiful way to screw my buzz, Mary.

“Sure.” Yeah I know exactly how I’m gonna handle this one.

“Thanks much.”

As soon as I hang up the phone, I let out a big yawn. The clock indicates 2:20 pm. Too soon for a nap? After I take care of this stupid request, I’ll nap. Dialing a number on the phone, I wait for the lucky chosen to pick up.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

“Hi Kiki.”

“Hello Ishmael, how are you?” I ask with the most suave tone of voice, like honey is pouring from my lips into the phone, and makes everything sounds so sweet the guy is feeling in heaven right now – basically picture me giving him the best blowjob he ever got in his life. I don’t even grant him the time to respond. “I need your help. Very important task. Are you readily available? Would you get in touch with Mary, she wants the latest report I compiled. Thanks Ishmael. I really appreciate it.”

“Um sure. What format would you…”

“I really don’t give a damn. It’s for Mary. Ask her. Thanks again.”

John is maybe my favorite minion, but he’s not the only one who deserves my undivided attention.

I burst in laughter. This is the most amazing day of my life.

Just wait until John shows back up in my office to tell me his troubles. I’m gonna show him who has to deal with fake pregnant bullshit then.


To be continued…