Journal of a Single Gal in Q8 - Episode Eight

From last episode..

"She found the whole episode embarrassing and told her friend that it was time to leave so she said her goodbyes as she and her friend went inside the nearby mall. She didn't need to turn around to figure out that he was following them as they entered Liz Claiborne. She had just grabbed one of the shirts on display when she sensed his presence right next to her."

"Excuse me, I believe you dropped something," she heard him say as she turned to face him. Her heart began to race. She hated embarressing moments when she just didn't know how to act. He quickly handed her a pen with a piece of paper attached to it then turned and walked away. Her friend had been eyeing the situation from the other side of the shop and paced hurridly towards her to ask her what he'd said. She slipped the pen in her bag and told her that she'd forgotten her pen and he'd past it to her. She didn't like to lie to her friend but she'd just been complaining about Mr. Big and she didn't want to look like a hypocrite.

It had been two weeks since she'd last spoken to Mr. Big. The year was coming to an end so she'd told him that it was time they dealt with reality and that they should break up.

"What do you mean you want to break up?" his voice aggrivated "People "break up" when they're teenagers which we're not. Besides it takes two people to break up and I'm not agreeing to this." She knew it wasn't going to be easy. Maybe she should've just made up her mind and stopped answering his calls but she knew that everytime she'd see his number, she'd pick it up.

If her Mom hadn't yelled and screamed when she'd first approached her about the idea of getting married to him, things might've been different but ever since then, her Mom had changed with her and she just didn't feel happy about it. The stress had been too much for her and she just wanted to stop feeling guilty and the only thing she could do was try to leave him.

She needed something to preoccupy herself from calling him and maybe this guy could do that. These were her thoughts when she finally was alone in her room and was staring at the number.

"Hello. Thank you for returning the pen that was originally not mine" she told him. Let's hope he has a sense of humour she thought to herself.

"Hello! No problem" he laughed. (So far so good, she thought)"You're very pretty by the way," he continued.

"Thank you," she could feel herself blush.

"I also like you're style," he said and she thanked him again.

"Do you know any other words besides thank you?" he asked.

He was being sarcastic and she wasn't sure whether to be sarcastic back or just ignore it.

"Sorry but I don't know what else to say when someone compliments me. So tell me more about you. I noticed that you gave me two numbers; a mobile and a house number" she answered.

"Yes, I live alone. I used to be married but I'm divorced now and live by myself. My ex-wife and kids don't live in Kuwait."

"I see" she said.

"I'd rather talk about you and I'd like to give you a few words of advise. I do like you're style but it needs a bit of work. For instance, I noticed that when you were sitting down that you had your handbag on the floor. That's very bad" he said.

"Excuse me?" she asked. (WTF, she thought to herself)

"Yes, it's not becoming at all. How can you put your bag on the floor. First, it's a very uncivilized thing to do, second it's bad luck." he retorted.

"Uncivilized?" her blood was begining to boil but her curiosity was getting the better of her and she wanted to hear more of what he had to say.

"Yes. I mean you spoilt the entire image of yourself when you put your bag on the floor and even though I liked what you were wearing it was more wintery and it's not even winter yet. I know you'll appreciate my advise. I think it's important to take care of your image and of course I'm letting you know what I like in women. The most important thing for me when I'm sitting with a woman is the way she carries herself. Image is everything," he said quite frankly.

That was all he needed to say.

"Forgive me for interrupting your session of consultation but first, I believe you've mistaken me for a bimbo, which I'm not. You know, the ones that put their teeny weeny prada bags on their laps and need someone like you to run their lives. Second, I'd much rather be sitting crosslegged and I mean like my ancestors used to sit, yoga style than to sit like the "little lady" your describing. Third, I'm not your ex-wife for you to advise me on anything and I am definately not surprised you have an ex since you have issues and definately need therapy yourself. If you'll excuse me, I believe I have much more intelligent things to do than to scrutinize my personality based on where I put my bag. Thank you and good bye".

She hung up and threw her mobile on the bed. "Of all the rotten, peice of crap," the swear words weren't coming out as fast as she'd wanted them to. "Who the hell did he think he is." She'd been so angry that she finally realised that she'd forgotten to breath. She took three deep breaths and suddenly began to smile. The whole thing was too funny. Talk about a guy with controlling issues! Poor ex-wife, no wonder she left him!

"They're sick. they're sick. They're sick" the mantra was making her feel better but she still couldn't believe it.

Two weeks later, she'd bumped into him at an exhibition and she hoped he wouldn't approach her but he did.

"You look very pretty" he said. Sick, sick, sick. Her mantra was coming back to her.

She nodded to him as she walked away. She wanted to be at least one million miles away from him. Sick, that he'd say that she looked pretty but that was so typical. It didn't matter that she'd given him a piece of her mind and told him to go lay an egg. All that mattered was that she looked pretty and the look on his face of "let's try again." made her even angrier. Idiot!

When she'd finally closed the phone, she'd weakend and called her Mr. Big. He was so excited to hear her voice and told her that he was hoping that she'd call.

"By the way, you remember when I told you that we have to break up because I need to meet other people?" she asked him.

"Yes" he replied reluctantly.

"Well, I want to tell you about something that happened to me that you're not going to believe" she was still angry about the incident and wanted to get it off her chest even though she knew that he was not going to like it.

"I have a feeling that I'm not going to want to hear this so please don't tell me" he said.

"Don't you want me to be honest?" she asked.

"That's the problem. You are too honest and it drives me crazy. I really think I'd rather not know." he said.

"Ok. Forget it," she replied.

"God, I hate this. Fine, tell me. What have you done?" she could tell he was already upset before even hearing the story.

"No. Forget it. I don't want you to get mad at me but the story is kinda stupid and funny at the same time so that's why I thought you'd find it funny," she replied.

She told him the story without mentioning how she'd actually met him. He was furious.

Although her sister always advised her that she should never be too honest when it came to the opposite sex, since it would backfire, she still wouldn't listen because telling him always made her feel better, regardless of the outcome.

"I hope you're happy with yourself that you let a nobody who knows nothing about you or about who you are to tell you all that," he yelled. "You know, I don't blame him. He probably thought you're one of those girls who likes to be treated that way. How would he know that he's dealing with an independent and intelligent girl that doesn't like to be pushed around. Sometimes I think you enjoy it! You enjoy taking people by surprise by letting them think that you're one thing and then showing them something entirely unexpected. I know you told him that he needs therapy but in reality you need it too," he continued.

He went on and on and then suddenly went quite and told her that he had to go. He needed to be alone. She tried to argue with him but it was no use and so she reluctantly told him that she was sorry and then hung up.

She began to wonder if her image did imply that she was a bimbo. Maybe that's why the type of men she kept encountering were so weird. She felt confused. Was it her image that needed fixing or was the society so superficual that they presumed a pretty girl must be stupid or the type that likes to be pushed around? She couldn't get it.

Thank God, this Ramadan she knew nothing of the sort would happen again. She'd promised to stay away from all the crowded places and to stick to just seeing close friends. The only similarity was that she'd told her Mr. Big that she was breaking up with him all over again and this time she hoped it would be for real.

Maybe she should've known that they may not end up together based on the way they'd met. Sometimes it was hard to believe that they actually met that way.

It all began a few summers ago when she had been visiting her sister in the States.

To be continued...