October 2004

A Disturbing Love Triangle

I'm having a few doubts about my life. Take that back - not my life - my career.

I don't know why I'm really in politics. I've always been too much of a flake most of my life to be seen as the person who ends up in this world. I run into teachers from elementary school who are mysteriously shocked I'm not writing bizarre literature for feminist druggies, and even I believed I'd be doing interpretative dancing to the sound of a tin can rolling down a hill to represent the repression of chicana feminism and view my body as the ultimate canvass - or write poems about 'my nemesis' and perform them in all black at slam poetry gatherings. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy I'm not that far gone into combining social issues and artistic expression (you know, bullshit). But I never thought I'd be a low level minion in politics where even in a corrupt administration, I couldn't even get a real job. I'm fucking losing it. I kind of wish I was a half assed artist over this. Partly it's because I've been a low level nobody for three years for a person whose administration has driven my career nowhere, and to add salt to the wound, this same person is also one of the major reasons why my love life has been a disaster. It wasn't smooth before, but the kind of bad it's become is a brand new level of low - even for me. I've been doubly fucked by the same man without a single moment of enjoyment. The man 'in charge' and I seem to enjoy the company of the same men. Do you have any idea what it likes to compete for the same guy's attention with someone who is ridiculously more powerful than you is always on the other line? Trust me when I say he is always on the other line and he's a phone call you have to take. Guess what, it's real easy to hang up on me. Click. See - real easy.

It all started with boy #1. Lets go by his initials: THP.

I was leaving the building's cafeteria, and I walked by and saw THP sitting at a table. Politics isn't a pretty world, so anytime I see a man that's attractive (hell even remotely attractive), I take notice. I was a woman who needed distraction, and here it was.

The next day he came to my floor wandering around looking for me. Sure enough, my psycho boss spread the word that I'm worthless and to visit her intern if you have crap work to offer. She even added that she's afraid that even crap work might be too hard for me, so try not to push me too hard. THP was told to take her up on that offer. So there he was at my cube - cute and clueless as ever. I thought, 'Perfect'.

We talked. We quickly became….friends. After all, he was a high paid do nothing, and I was a low paid nobody. What a match. Though I quickly grew attached to talking to him, I realized he was a shallow person whose main goal in life was to have sex with all women. He's a boy, these things happen. He was emotionally incapable of being in a mature relationship with any creature on this earth. He's a boy. These things happen. So unlike most people in the building, I chose friendship over cheap sex. Looking back, I know I should have opted for the sex. But we had some great times….really, we did. As we spent more time together and as the conversations grew in length, I started to notice a trend: the man in charge was constantly interrupting. But any time we would go do something, he would get a phone call. Everything would be cut short, and I would say, "Goodbye. Talk to you later?" He would drive off to hang out with the man.

I offered this person friendship, the man in charge offered endless privilege and access. I offered a lunch away from work. He offered a raise. He offered him a new job. He offered him admission to an executive MBA program. He offered him a better job. He offered him a full fledged birthday celebration when others would be lucky to get a cake. He never ran out of offers. And me…Sometimes I bought him a cookie from the bakery across from my apartment. One time I dropped the cookie on my bedroom floor and it was broken and had my hair on it. It was disgusting. It wasn't even a good cookie, but that was all I had to offer. Dry cookies and friendship…I felt like a real winner riding the short bus to school.

Then over time, it became clear that 'he' knew I was a THP's friend, and maybe I'm transparent because the man in charge's usually friendly boisterous public persona started to die very steadily when he was around me. One moment he would be making inappropriate jokes about Nigerians stealing silverware, and the next he would yell at me to find the man who has his split pea soup. He loved that green mush. The man in charge did all but threaten me when he saw me near THP, which is when I decided to professionally take a stand - passive aggressively, of course. I opted out of offering my loyal services. You want to stare me down while I talk to 'your man'? I said, screw that!-in my head. As a result, I got my weekends free again from no longer staffing stupid events. Saddest of all, the last event I helped staff was an Easter Egg Hunt…

The state of the state really hung in indecision until we found out who won the egg hunt: a fat kid, get this, named Albert. I wish I was lying, but it really happened. The prize was a basket of chocolate Easter Eggs. But it was worth it because I knew this was it - I had it. No more events. I had enough of this bullshit. The man in charge may control the man I wanted, but he was no longer going to control me… completely. At least not my Saturday mornings.

It didn't take long for things to decline in my friendship. THP and I would fight, midway through 'he' would call. I got so tired of competing for attention when it was clear I was going to lose out. THP began to give him more and more of his time, and I would get less and less. But I had my dignity, that's what I told myself repeatedly despite evidence of the contrary. And so I let our friendship wane. It might have saddened me, but I just delved right into work to ensure the re-election of the man who was taking away THP from me.

The saying goes, one another door closes another one opens, right?

That truly was the case for me because as I began my endless pursuit to work myself into a frenzy, an intern was dropped off to our new department that was dedicated to re-electing the 'man'. I hated the man in charge, but my dedication and ambition never wavered. Once the new person was dropped off, I thought, well maybe losing THP can be forgiven, right? I can't say it was love at first site, but in this boy, I found a new person to fill the void THP left behind. Well not quite, THP bought me lunch. This boy was poor, but he paid attention to me when I felt like distracting someone at work. I will call him 'the boy'.

As luck would have it, the boy hated THP. I didn't know why either. I told him the stories of how THP disappointed me and hurt me, and out of nowhere the boy declared his hatred of him. Funny. I thought to myself, I must have sex with this person. Then he tells me those magical words every girl in politics longs to hear from the man they're considering, "I don't want to work in politics." I nearly fainted from ecstasy. He wanted to use his ivy league degree, when he finishes, to teach or become a professor. Though I find that strange, I was touched by the fact he was not an opportunist, like the bitch before him. Everything seemed perfect…he seemed perfect and uncompromising in all the right ways.

It was the last day of April of 2004, it was my last day in the awful office where the gay oppressor ruled and ruined my life repeatedly - indirectly through lying deputy chief of staff's and their nasal sounding director bitches. I was going to meet the boy for dinner and confirming our plans online when he says to me, "I ran into him [the man in charge ] on campus." The boy and the man in charge met once before at an event a year ago. It was brief, I told myself. An important man like him meets people all the time. This is not a big deal!

So I took a deep breath - for about a minute - and reluctantly asked, "OH? How was…it?"

The boy was all excited, 'He remembered my name. He remembered that I am going to travel to Turkey this summer started to give me advice on where to go.' Special, right?

He met him once and remembered EVERYTHING they talked about. I had to deal with the man daily for 7 months once, and he still mixed me up with 3 other females. But he meets my adorable friend just ONCE and he remembers him in detail. A busy man that just happens to remember this very attractive boy who is very unimpressive besides his physical appearance and very fit physique. I always told the boy gay men loved him because of his nice ass. I was right. Wonder why? So I announce to my friend, "You idiot. IT IS BECAUSE HE IS GAY. He just wants your ass."

Oh, it felt good to say it. At last, I can say it - HE IS GAY, I think.

Well, I don't know. He's gay or sexist. Very sexist. Noticeably sexist. Maybe I'm just wishing he's gay. There has to be an explanation.

The boy says, "You're just jealous."

Jealous? JEALOUS? What? What is this shit? You have to be kidding me….that little bitch. Guess he isn't perfect. He's stupid.

An entire year of my life flashed like a campaign ad gone terribly wrong before my eyes - going through my repeated mistakes. Humiliatingly pointing out my stupidity for the world to see - a deep, dark, threatening voice saying I didn't just fuck up once but twice! Isn't it time to get rid of this girl? I would nod, 'Yea, it's time….what the hell is wrong with her?' Flash back to reality: what is wrong with me? How can this be? Answer: you like pretty men, stop liking pretty men.

How many times will I lose a heterosexual's man attention to the attractive world of opportunity offered by this powerful man? I get it, we share the same preference in men. I commend the man in charge for having a good eye. But seriously, cut me a break. The boy is just…a boy. Can't you throw me a bone?

Sure enough they started to accidentally run into each other all the time, and next thing I knew, my second love interest in less than a year is swimming the man's pool. Swimming. The man in charge was getting to see him half naked constantly, while I was picturing it while sleeping off unemployment. People like me don't get unemployment checks either. I was sexually repressed and broke. But not my little friend. The boy starts blocking out his schedule for classes, wrestling practice, events, and fundraisers. At this rate, he's going to have a high paying job as a coordinator of something non-existent. I'm leaving messages to the boy, 'Hey, why aren't you at my graduation dinner?' He says, "I had to finish my paper and get permission from my dean because it was late." But his away message said he finished it the night before…

These boys are going to kill my patience. I've always looked at the easy obvious females as threats, but a tramp is really not the problem. I feel…paranoid…all the time…when we talk. I know there's one set of lines he tells me and then there's the truth, which involves that damn man in charge. Oh, it's trouble…

EDITOR'S NOTE: Pixie is our newest contributor. Grandpa claims her to be a friend of his. Godzilla doesn't known one way or the other, but is pretty sure that Grandpa's got her doped up and chained to a dumpster in some rat-infested back alley in central New Jersey, as this is usually how we acquire a new staff member.