“No... I didn’t mean to stare. I’ve just never seen anyone who looks like you up close before.”
He raises his brows at me and smirks. “Looks like me? Is that an insult or a compliment?”
I shake my head and squirm a bit. “Definitely not an insult.” Don’t insult the psycho.
“Lemme guess... you’re used to the jock type with short hair and their fucking preppy pants and loafers?”
I nod. “Yeah, I suppose so... I’m not used to men with eyeliner and colored stripes in their hair.”
He leans his head back against the seat and closes his eyes. “I like being different. I don’t feel the need to fuckin’ blend.”
I won’t admit it to him, but I admire it. Michael is a blender. I can barely tell him and his friends apart anymore, dressing the same, driving the same kind of car, short hair with a little spiky mess in the front. I suppose I’m the same, dressing like all the other women in the office, but once I’m home and alone, I can’t wait to throw on an old t-shirt, put on yoga pants, and wear pink converse sneakers.
“So, Evelyn... what kind of meeting were you heading up to?”
“It was for work.”
“I gathered that... What do you do?”
“I’m a marketing exec at a small advertising firm. I was supposed to be going to a seminar on direct mail campaigns and online marketing strategies.”
“That sounds interesting.”
“Well, as you said, I’m obviously going to miss it now. My boss is going to be pissed. It cost quite a bit of money to register and pay for the room and everything.”
“What the fuck, Ev? You’re stuck in a ditch in a blizzard. I think he’ll understand.”
I shake my head. I can already hear Jim screaming about wasting money and my lack of responsibility. He only cares about money and profit.
“My boss is not exactly an understanding person.”
“Fuck him then. You don’t need that shit.”
“Yeah, but I do need a job. And do you always talk like that?”
“If he gives you any shit, let me know, and I’ll cover the costs he lost from your ditch-dive. And yes, I fuckin’ do talk like this.”
“What? Are you crazy? You can’t give me money.”