Transplanted Life
Friday, August 08, 2003
 
New reason to dislike Fenway Park's seats - there is no comfortable way to cross your legs if you show up in a short skirt. Not that I'd normally wear that to a ballgame, but I hadn't known that BioSoft had bought a block of tickets for Opening Day, and their previous receptionist had evidently returned hers when she moved out of Boston. So, hey, free ballgame and the afternoon off. I certainly won't argue with that, but I'd showed up dressed for work, since no-one had told me otherwise. This isn't the first time I've felt inconvenienced by Michelle's clothes, but it was the first time it really bothered me. If I fall on Michelle's face because her stupid heals get stuck in a grate above the subway, well, that's her fault, isn't it, for sticking me in this situation. If I forget I'm wearing a skirt or a loose-fitting top and bend over to pick up a quarter, that's not my butt or boobs people are getting a look at. It just doesn't matter; it's not really me getting ogled or looking stupid.

Until, of course, it happens in front of my friends. I've only known the folks at BioSoft a couple weeks, but they all were really apologetic about not telling me earlier. Some of the folks left early, when the game got ugly, but you don't leave a ballgame before it ends. We met up with them at Copperfield's afterward, but it wasn't that much fun - the Sox lost, everyone was tired since the tech guys had all come in early to try to get some work done with the afternoon blown off. I left pretty early; guys were hitting on me, and I wasn't in the mood to imagine how they'd feel if they knew I was only Michelle Garber on the outside, and all Martin Hartle underneath. And, it kind of hurt when they asked what I did, I said I was the receptionist, and some guy made a comment on why the person getting paid the least had to wear the most expensive clothes. I made some wise-ass comment and bailed soon after.

After getting back to Michelle's, I just sat around bored for a while before remembering that I do, I guess, kind of have a boyfriend. I called Kurt up, but he was on his way out the door. He promised we'd do something Monday, though.

Now, I think I'll drop. Today just wore me out, for some reason.

-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