Transplanted Life
Thursday, July 24, 2003
 
Man, am I glad that ESPN.com has been slow of late... Beats watching the Sox get their butt kicked by the Tampa Bay freaking Devil Rays via GameCast in real time. Knowing that the Yankees are losing as well doesn't really make it any better; just a brutal, brutal game.

One of the women here at the office heard me crying in the bathroom last night, which is mortifying. Janet was awfully nice about it, and under other circumstances, she'd be the type of person I'd like to talk to. There always seems to be one person at any tech company who looks out of place because she's got grey hair and grandkids; that's Janet here. She's old enough to be the mother of everyone else at the company, but she does good SQL work, evidently. If the letter hadn't said "don't tell anyone", I'd probably have spilled the whole deal to her, despite it sounding insane. Instead, I told her that Michelle's old boyfriend had gotten engaged. She seemed to buy it, told me I'd meet someone else, all that stuff.

It does make me wonder about Michelle's past. I just made that old boyfriend up, of course, but the fact is, I don't know anything about her. The lease on her apartment started at the start of July, and she apparently just started working at BioSoft on the 7th. The information on her New Hampshire driver's license says she was born November 3rd, 1978, and the address listed is in a town somewhere in the northern part of the state; feeding it into MapQuest didn't tell me much of anything. There's a listing for "Michelle Garber" there, but when I tried to call it, the number was disconnected. Ditto for the other Garber listed there. Michelle doesn't have any sort of address book on her computer or a paper one. She must have friends or family somewhere, but I can't find any of them.

On the one hand, that's good, in that I won't have to fool anyone or really worry about getting caught. But - and I don't really want to think about this - it also means that she doesn't have very much to tie her here except her body. To me, that seems huge, but she let it go, so who knows how long until she decides she wants it back?

-Martin
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Note: This blog is a work of fantasy; all characters are either ficticious or used ficticiously. The author may be contacted at JaySeaver@comcast.net