Malicious Mai Tai

"The course of true love never did run smooth."

From A Midsummer Night's Dream (I, i, 134)

-William Shakespeare-

One of the main stumbling blocks to the Romance That Never Happened was the back-stabbing piranha’s absolutely oozing out of the pores of our old offices. This is a long story, so bear with me. Be warned, though, there's no resolution in sight. (A bit ironic, considering our areas of specialty...)

When I first met Mr. Darcy, he was very sweet. (Though I will never say that word with his name in the same sentence now!) Never alluding to the power and prestige of his background, it was only because everyone else knew where he came from and what he was. This seemed to paint him an arrogant boor. (That and the fact he completely lacked any social skills whatsoever! You guys notice a pattern yet? I’m so verbose, so I’m always attracted to the strong silent types. Go figure! If the both of us were chatty, who’d be doing the listening?)

Anyway, while I admit, I was attracted to him from the get go, it was (truly) never anything to do with where he came from, and who he was. The attraction was the man he almost was, and who he aspired to be. (So Renee in Jerry Maguire here!) He wasn’t very cute (in Vixen speak, that meant he wasn’t very tall). He didn’t have an impressive dress sense – which usually jumped out at me (I have no problems admitting that I’m shallow). He had the social skills of a hermit … and he could only talk about work … and worse, golf. There was a lack of passion in living life that I always find off-putting in a man.. or anyone.

But when I was in the room, he seemed to light up, and come out of his self- imposed detention. He was always clambering after me – so sweet in his clumsiness, so unlike his usual confident know-all demeanour. He’d ask about what I was up to, or my latest scrape. (It was fast becoming the highlight of my former office-mates day when I walked into the room. I was almost always greeted with "Vix, tell us stories!" in a what-happened-to-you-today type way. Undeniably, something or other would inevitably happen to me. Drama seeks me like a moth to a flame.)

However, I soon got the sense that I was being actively disliked. (Trust me, this is relevant!) Making and keeping friends wherever I went; was something (perhaps the only thing!) I’m 100% confident in. This change completely floored me. These women seem to dislike me, based on nothing I had done other than being myself! (Note – it was all women, and Darcy- the sole rose among the thorns. You see why these women were busy grappling over him like a pack of rabid dogs over a measly bone?)

It has since hit me that it was probably my fast-blossoming friendship with Darcy that was the cause of all this discontent. I couldn’t help it if we had the most in common and that we understood each other, and more importantly, why shouldn’t I cultivate a friendship with a seemingly nice enough guy who seemed interested back?

Things came to a head early on when on one of our very first outings as new colleagues, we went out for drinks. Not being a competent driver, and being completely unfamiliar with the roads in KL, (okay, and being a complete chicken too) I was relying on a colleague to send me home. It soon transpired as we stood outside the entrance while Darcy waited for his car (valet, of course, dah-ling), that neither of us (the colleague giving me a ride and me) had a clue how to get me home. Darcy, was very familiar with my living area, hence it seemed only natural that I got bundled into the car with him the moment it pulled up on the curb.

Once away from the crowds, alone in his car (much to my complete shock and amazement) - he started off by saying how much he enjoyed my company. He said how he was well aware that he constantly teased me with sarcastic jibes and was delighted that I always took it so well and in such good humour. I was taken aback by this seeming confession; my heart was pounding in a manner that made me – for once – lose all ability to speak.

Then he kept silent for a while, before mumbling shyly, "You know I don’t mean it, right? I really like –"

This is when his mobile rang. How I wish to this day I had answered it as he told me to – but when I hesitated, he’d picked up the call himself. In a split second, it all came tumbling down like a house of cards. Next thing I know, he was making a U-turn and heading back to the bar.

Flabbergasted, he’d shook his head at me and said how another guy was going to take me home as I lived nearer his area, and he was under orders to take home another colleague. Confused, especially in light of what almost happened, I kept silent, and let the others dictate what was meant to happen, and just followed orders.

As did he.

#1 - I didn’t live near this other fellow’s area, and that other guy did not have a clue how to get me home. #2 – Darcy had to go hours out of his way to take home the other (non-threatening female) colleague, and got lost on the way back too. It was such a transparent attempt to keep us apart – unfortunately, I was helpless, and Darcy didn’t seem to want to do anything about it.

Later on, I heard one particularly vicious snake, which we shall refer to as the Tart (for obvious reasons), who had high ambitions of becoming the next Lady Darcy, had rung him and said, "Do you want to be rescued?" in reference to the fact I talk too much, and he not at all. (Darcy was always laughing at me for my chatterbox ways, but until that night, I always thought he enjoyed my company. Perhaps he did, but the Tart managed to make me doubt it). I can’t remember it, but the story at the office was that Darcy’s reply was "Yes, tell me how".

Because I was in the said vehicle, and knew exactly what was going on between us, I cannot imagine that he said that. But in the harsh light of day, it seemed like I dreamed the whole thing up! (Especially when he seemed unmoved and tight-lipped about the whole thing.)

We never did get another chance. And Darcy has not yet summoned up the courage to finish that sentence.

I, however, had my moment of reckoning with the Tart, when finally weary of being all Miss Sunshine and Blue Skies the whole time, I'd confronted her about the whole "Do you want to be rescued," thing. The pure shock on her face was priceless. Her beady little eyes went as wide as it could (have I mentioned yet that she was educated in Singapore? What is it with that country! My theory is that it must be the water. My apologies to all nice Singaporeans out there ... I've not met any of you yet! And your ambassadors have not been doing a good job - to say the least.) as she gasped "How did you find out?!" And I swear she looked over at Darcy, frozen with fear.

He was right next to her as I whirled around to face him. (Okay, I had a few drinks – he did not deserve this, and I knew it! Our audience didn’t though. And that, my friends, was the point.) "And you, with your tell me how," I sneered, my hurt feelings getting too much for me. I guess poor Darcy didn’t know what hit him. (He was very English in the way he refused to display any emotion. He did, however, look furious that night!) He barked out at the Tart, demanding an explanation, but that was the last I heard as I haughtily made my exit, head held high.

I never got my explanation. I don’t regret one minute of closing those doors behind me for good. It would be a day too soon if I had to see another two-headed snake that I used to share an office with. They can have their seemingly glittering career and their Prince. I - having served my sentence and learnt my lessons, am moving onwards and upwards.

When Mr. Darcy makes his escape, he knows where to find me.