One night were eating at an Italian restaurant. I was a little underdressed for the occasion because I’d been scrambling around all day doing chores. She was wearing her clothes from work, including a sweater and a skirt. Her nails had a flawless French manicure. I’d forgotten to shave.
I was telling her all about my day. Unlike most days where I was trying to find anything I could to keep busy, I’d had a really productive day. I’d gotten some writing done, taken care of a number of chores, had a long talk with my roommate, and made some trades on my fantasy baseball team. When I was excitedly telling her about my day, she started squinting a bit. She raised her hand to stop me, before lowering it again to straighten out her skirt. I raised an eyebrow as she cleared her throat.
“So, find a job today?” she asked, ostensibly joking but with a piercing seriousness. I’d sent out a couple resumes the day before, but that day I’d done nothing.
“I’m sorry. Continue,” she said with an air of superiority and an intentionally obvious disinterest in anything else I had to say.
Things ended not long after that. Ironically enough, just after I’d found a job.
Resume, resume, resume, resume
There's no job for which I seem fit
so I'll have to bend the truth a little bit
It's hard to sum up your life in just one page
Things had been over for over a year when we met up again at a twenty-four hour diner down the street. We had just met to touch base.
Her manicured nails had given way to short, stubby nails. She wore a casual jacket and blue jeans while I hadn’t changed out of my work attire.
She was talking about her efforts to please everyone, who seemed to believe that she had nothing but time to devote to them because she’d been laid off a couple months earlier. She was working on a web site for her father, trying to mend fences with her boyfriend, and helping the Houston Anime Club to-