OR zabaglione on Via Dei Fori Imperiali with a view of the Colosseum

We are not talking to Ava.  I want to make it clear if she calls you, don’t take her call. Ignore her at lunch.  She is being punished.

You know that the two of us work together at the soul-sucking day job. You also know we have been “re-purposed” and have been going through excruciating training.

I am so not talking to her.

Between the training sessions from hell, we still have to sneak in customer appointments and, because we’re so new at all of this and, quite frankly, we’re terrified, we’ve been doing the appointments in pairs. Today, we had a late appointment at 4:30.  I volunteered with another lady from the office to do it.  I did whine to Ava about it but really only  because it had been a long day and I didn’t waaaant to taaaaaalllllk to anooooother customeeeeeer. She pretended like she cared.  She promised she’d stay until the appointment was over.

Ummmm hummmm.

The customer was perfectly lovely and the appointment went very well. That was until I walked out of the appointment room to make copies and I discovered the office completely dark.  Every light was off.

All right, I thought to myself. Surely Ava was still there, waiting for me, but, no, her light was off too, her desk stowed away for the night.  The front door was locked. Not a soul was left but my partner, and the customer, and me. I was aghast. And really pissed off.

So I called her on the phone. “Where the hell are you?”

“I’m driving home.” There was a pause and I could hear the wheels turning in her head. “Where are you?”

“I’m standing in a very dark, very empty, very lonely office.”

Pregnant pause.

“OH. MY. GOD,” she said and then tried to recover. “You’re almost done right?” Like she MEANT TO FORGET US THERE.

“Oh no!” I told her, “we have a bit more to go here.  Alone. In the dark.  Alone.”

“I am so sorry. I’m so sorry.  I’m so sorry.”

Riiiiiiiight.  I hung up the phone.

And then I called her back. “Dude, did you really just forget us here? You walked out of your office, PAST MY DESK where all my stuff is sitting out.  You didn’t think it odd that my car was still in the parking lot? When have I ever left the office without saying good bye to you? Where did you think I was? You had to drive by my car!”

She trotted out her tired old line.  “I’m old.  I really need to be taken to an assisted living facility and left there.”

Long, slow, aggrivated sigh. I was definitely wearing my angry eyes.

I warned her that this would be a blog post. She admitted it was only fair. She has apologized several times in several ways, but I still have a couple more days of milking this. After all, SHE LEFT HER BEST FRIEND IN THE DARK AND LOCKED HER IN! It’s a damn good thing the customer was a tiny little woman who barely made it to five feet.

She promised baked goods would show just how sorry she was.  An eclair was mentioned. She still owes me lunch for going to the office at midnight on Friday night to let the computer guys out.  MIDNIGHT! ALONE.  IN THE DARK.

I sense a theme here.

This eclair better be served to me by a beautifully accented French man at a sidewalk cafe on the Champs-Elysees with a lovely view of the Sienne. If she says the word “salad” to me while I’m enjoying my pastry and picturesque view of the waiter, I can’t be held responsible.

A lonely, dark office with a locked door.  Indeed.

I am so off the hook for like the next thirty late afternoon appointments.

Possibly two eclairs.

Sheesh.