Elsie-Rae's got Double D's

oh, mickey

Okay, I'm trying, I really am. But working in an office is just not the same as working in the salon, I miss my friends. There's not really anyone here to be friends with, Laura hates me, and everyone else is either old or boring.

In the first week of being here, I met this guy called Michael; he works up in the accounts department too — yeah, another accountant, I guess you'd say I have a type. I won't lie I kinda hoped that he would be a substitute Aaron, I needed someone making inappropriate jokes and making me smile, but alas it wasn't meant to be. The beige trousers and tucked in blue shirts should've given it away that he could never and would never take the place of Aaron; he would always reign supreme as the BFF.

Michael's very sweet, he's just, boring. I made the mistake of sitting in the canteen with him at lunch on that very first day we met. We sat on opposite sides of the table; I ate my banana while scrolling through Facebook on my phone and couldn't help but feel jealous when someone had posted up a photo of some charity fancy dress day at the salon, Michael was doing his Sudoku, and then we made eye contact. It was an awkward situation, did I continue to eat the banana? Did I maintain eye contact? Or look away? Well, obviously I chose the latter, and when I looked up again, he was still watching me.

Since then, I've dreaded my morning break. Every-single-day at 10.15 am Michael would strut over to my little desk and insist that we walk to the kitchen together and make tea. And because it was me the kettle never seemed to boil quick enough; every Tuesday and Thursday I had to listen to the full in-depth analysis of the previous evening's squash game.

"Do you think you'd like to come for a match one night?" Michael asked me.

He couldn't have picked a worse time to ask me; I was just about to dunk my fourth chocolate digestive into my cup of tea as if he really thought that I did any exercise. And no offence or anything, but even if I did want to play squash or socialise with people from work, Michael would be the last person I'd choose. Okay, maybe that's a lie, I'd pick him over Laura, but only if I really had to, you know for like world peace or something.

I had to let him down gently, "I babysit my sister's kids on those nights, she goes to college," I lied and hoped that would be the end of it.

I know I said that Michael would be the last person from work that I would choose to socialise with, but I've agreed to go on a date with him.

After all that pestering, I was expecting him to go all out, pick me up in his helicopter and fly me to the most exclusive restaurant in London, but I found myself sitting in The Spice Palace watching Michael devour a curry that was too hot for him. His eyes and nose were running, but he turned down the napkin I offered him, and he wiped his nose on his naan bread instead, before eating it.

When the bill came, he took one look and told me how much I owed right down to the exact penny. "So, about tonight," I began to speak.

"Yeah, I don't think it's going to work out," he announced.

I silently sent up a thank-you to whoever it was that had managed to get me out of this one. I didn't have to tell him that the date had been crap, he was a bore, and I didn't fancy him, well maybe a little bit I did. When he was dressed in non-work attire, he was ten times better looking, but he was still as dull as dishwater.

"You've got nothing about you, no conversation, you're boring. And if I'm honest I just don't fancy you," he suddenly announced loud enough for the entire restaurant to hear.

Well, he had a cheek, I was the boring one, and he didn't fancy me, that was a lie. It was the biggest lie I've heard in my whole life. I was about to tell him so when he climbed into a taxi, "no hard feelings," he shouted out of the window when the taxi drove off leaving me standing in the cold like an idiot.