“So, how was your date on Friday night?”
I pause. Rifle through my Monday morning-addled brain. This should be filed under “Friday, night of”. Think, think, think…
“We saw you at Oliver and Bonacini’s on the patio.”
Finally, the file appears.
Friday, night of: 6:00 to 7:00 p.m., Oliver and Bonacini’s: Drink with ex-colleague to catch up on life.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
My current colleague has a huge grin on his face, as though he’s finally caught me.
I don’t usually like to write about colleagues here, but since he put me in a brutally awkward position last Christmas by asking me if I would like to be featured on a “matchmaking” website he was building, I feel as though I can loosen my nearly-airtight bands of discretion in this instance.*
“Oh, that wasn’t a date.”
His face falls a little, but I sense that he doesn’t believe me. Because, of course, I need to lie about these things.
“That was me having a drink with an ex-colleague to catch up on things.”
But thanks for starting a rumour. That’s just swell.
You see, I’ve had this argument repeatedly with others. “A woman cannot engage in business development in the same way that a man would, because everyone will always assume that the woman is coming onto the man, or vice-versa,” I would say.
“Wow, someone’s got a high opinion of herself,” I could hear them thinking. “Why would she think that anyone would care if she’s dating or not?”
Well, score one for me in the “I told you so” category.
And people wonder why I like to keep my personal life out of my office.
This is why.
* At the time, I couldn’t tell if it was an elaborate way of setting me up with one of his friends, or an actual attempt to pimp me out like a prostitute. Clearly, the look of disgust on my face as I handed back his business card wasn’t pronounced enough to scare him completely. NOTE TO ALL MALE READERS: Do not ask your female colleagues to join your escort service.