Being on the job search generally means that I neither a) leave the apartment nor b) change out of my pajamas.
My typical job application outfit and pose.
Being friendless in a new, strange city generally means that Mar and I try to get out as often as possible, in attempt to meet men/friends. This implies, of course, that I need to change out of my “work attire” into something more suitable.
One Monday evening, Mar and I decide to grab a happy hour drink and appetizer at Benjy’s before Jack Bauer saves the day. Mar suggests that we wear formal business attire to make ourselves look more professional. I agree, but insist on a vow not to spill anything on my nice “job interview” skirt. [Editor’s note: This is what high school English teachers refer to as “foreshadowing.”]
As we step outside of our apartment, we realize that it is raining. Really hard. A deluge. Mar bravely offers to drive.
After crawling through 6 o’clock Houston traffic in the rain, we arrive at our destination. We spend 15 minutes in the parking lot, half waiting to see if the downpour will stop and half wondering whether a cheap appetizer is worth the trouble. In the meantime, we opt for a photoshoot.
Still dry at this point.
Eventually, we decided it was time to just make a run for it. I jumped out of the car and sprinted as fast as I could to the nearest door.
Unfortunately, I walked right into the open door of the wrong bar. I casually told the bouncer “Man, it’s really raining out there” as a crowd of about 7 middle-aged people laughed at me from the bar. I turned around swiftly and sped-walked under the awning to the proper door, where Mar is waiting for me.
Soaking wet, we tumble into Benjy’s and start to go up the stairs. Laughing, Mar tells me there’s something stuck to my skirt. I realize a piece of paper is attached to my skirt by a wad of chewed gum. Mar’s vow that nothing would happen to my skirt resonates in my brain. [Editor’s note: This is what high school English teachers refer to as a “flashback.”] Once again, I have been sabotaged by my supposed friend – girl left chewing gum on her passenger side car seat! If that’s not intentional sabotage, I don’t know what is. [Editor’s note: Following the theme of high school English, I would like to make it abundantly clear that Mar is the antagonist in this story. I, obviously, am the tragic hero, my one fatal flaw being that I repeatedly trust She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Trusted.]
We spend 5 minutes in the bathroom, scraping as much gum as possible off of my skirt.
Note the gum stain on the left side of skirt. And disdain in my face on mirror reflection.
To reiterate: Not only did I run, drenched in rainwater, into the wrong bar. Oh, no, I also had a huge piece of paper hanging off of the back of my skirt, for the entire clientele to see as I turned around (thinking I looked so smooth in my faux-work clothes). Mar deceived me. And who leaves chewed gum on their car seat, anyway?!
She acknowledged and remedied her wrongdoing, however, by getting my skirt dry-cleaned for me.
The Saboteur herself.
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, I’m looking for a new roommate.