'Tash.. About what you're wearing..' my boss carefully begun. I slurped my coffee, only half attentive to what he's saying, running on give or take a little, not more than 3 hours of sleep.
'It is Monday after all..' he continued.
'So it says on my shirt', I apathetically reply, still clutching my disposable coffee cup for dear life with one hand, and navigating through Outlook with the other.
'Honey, you are fantastic, you look like something straight off the pages off a magazine, cutest thing to walk this Earth!'
'But?' I raise my eyes up from the laptop screen, feeling them involuntarily narrow because the light in the conference room was infinitely brighter than I could tolerate this morning.
He was referring to my 'I hate Mondays' Garfield t-shirt, that I had paired with light blue denim MNG jeans, winter boots and legwarmers, topping off with a cyan blue hoodie, new chocolate brown leather jacket and large hoop earrings.
I refrained from hissing at him, deciding that emitting animal sounds would not be the mature thing to do.
'You know, dress code and all..' he says lightly.
'Well. May I be frank?' I say to him, in English, him still not being fluent often causes amusing misunderstandings, this morning was no exception.
'Just be as you are!' he replies, evidently confused (Franc is a Swiss man who visits the office once every 3 months, very sharp dresser.. very sharp mind but as dull as a butter knife in terms of personality.)
I fight the urge to slam my head on the keyboard and explain that being frank is being blunt and honest. He gives me the go-ahead.
He stares at me.
'And I'm cramping' I add, returning my gaze to Outlook.
'More coffee?' he asks sheepishly. Aah, what the word 'cramping' does to a grown man. Amusing.
'Yes, please.' I reply, not shifting looks even for a moment.
About half an hour later we were interrupted, a guy walked in, left a stack of papers and walked out.
'What you like, right?' I get asked.
'Ooh can I have the pink file, I do like it! I exclaim excitedly, draining the remainder of my Red Bull.
'No, not that' he says, perplexed.
'Fine, keep it!' I put the pink file down.
He tells me to focus. I tell him that the Power Point presentation colors were indeed pretty. He seems frustrated.
'I mean the guy..' he stresses.
'What guy?' I purposely patronize him.
He gives up. Later, I emphasize that I don't own a 'My Boyfriend Is Out Of Town' t-shirt.