A love addict. And a diary. Enough said.
Sunday : 2nd January, 2012.
New year. New day. What should have otherwise been an uneventful Sunday turned into one that would be unforgettable for a long time to come. I had woken up late, as usual, and after a long-drawn out session in the bathtub, I headed to sit in front of the TV, as was usual for a Sunday. Flipping through the various channels and finding nothing interesting to watch, I switched off the set and began rummaging through the three different newspapers that the delivery boy had thrown at my doorstep. Political upheavals, sporting miseries, and celeb spats highlighted the newsprint.
As you know Diary, I lose interest pretty quickly. I turned my attention to my BB, which had been pinging for the past two days. Innumerable texts, mails, FB messages, and tweets littered my inbox, all but one wishing me a Happy New Year and blah blah blah. Half of them wouldn't even care if I had a happy day, leave alone a happy year. I scrolled through the endless list when I suddenly chanced upon a mail that had been sent to me a couple of days back. New Years' Eve to be precise. And the sender was none other than Jason Tremlett.
You remember who Jason Tremlett is, right Diary? The same British guy in the Accounts Department that I have been harping to you about since July of last year. Yeah, the same fresh-faced, brown-haired, green-eyed cutie who kept bumping into me in the cafeteria. Well, he had asked me out!
Ummm....Well, not asked me out. Or yeah, I could say that he had asked me out. It's final, he did ask me out. To a private New Years' party at his place. I wish you could have seen me jumping for joy when I saw that mail. But in the next instant, I was bawling my eyes out at my misfortune of not having checked my mail sooner. I had most definitely missed out on an opportunity to be seen as someone more than the office para-legal.
I looked at the mail address with teary eyes and hesitant fingers. firstname.lastname@example.org. The address glared back at me, as if taunting me to take the first step. The first step towards our fabulous future. You know Diary how wonderful it would undoubtedly be, me and Jason! Oh! I can already imagine the beautiful times we would spend together, the wonderful mo....Oops! I am getting way ahead of myself. Back to the story.
So, I replied to the mail with an apology that I could not attend the party, and with a post script that cheerfully hoped that we could hang out some other time. At least I hope I was cheerful and not creepy when I suggested it. I then tried to busy myself with a half-read novel and later with a couple of unsuccessful exploits in the kitchen.
About an hour later, my BB vibrated violently, shaking me out of my self-induced culinary catastrophe involving eggs, tomatoes, and some gooey yellow ingredient I don't know the name of. I rushed into the living room to check my handheld, and saw a text message from an unknown number.
"Why the apology?", the text read. I was understandably perplexed and out of sheer curiosity, I replied with, "May I know who I apologized to?"
To which, in less than a couple of minutes, a response buzzed my BB again. "Do you apologize a lot BTW?"
I was more than a little flustered at the reply, obviously, and I replied, "I don't usually do it, but it seems that you have been fortunate enough to be at the receiving end of one of my rare apologies."
The reply was prompt, as I had half-hoped it would be. It read, "Well, I sure was fortunate enough to receive it. So, you still can't wager on my identity?"
I strained myself for a good ten minutes and my intense thought process was rudely interrupted by another loud buzz. A new text. "It has been more than eight minutes since you replied, so I'm guessing that you have no clue whatsoever. So, let me make it easy for you. Here's a hint : We work at the same place."
Suddenly it struck me that it could be Jason. I shook my head at my optimism and texted back. "Is it who I think it is? JPT?"
Half a dozen minutes elapsed before I heard the now-expected buzz. The reply read, "Ummm....If JPT implies Jason P. Tremlett, then you are absolutely right! Bravo, Ms. Torres. Took you long enough, though."
A screech of glee may have escaped from my mouth before I realized that Jason had my cell number. I was dumbstruck, at least I think I was, for a long stretch of time. I picked up my BB, stared at the words Jason P. Tremlett for an even longer stretch of time and then clicked 'Reply'.
I may have paused before typing anything, thinking what I wanted to convey to him. The same standard boring reply that he would expect from the office para-legal, or something saucy that would be representative of Rosaline, the Hispanic woman living alone in New Delhi.
"So, when are we hanging out JPT? I think a New Years' Eve party is overdue!"
Before I could lose my courage, I hit 'Send' and lay back on my couch to wait for the response. And it was quick. Diary, believe me, it was quick. And it read, "Why not? Let's make it a Saturday night dinner. The New Year's still going to be new in a week. Think of a good Indian place ;)"
And yes, there was a 'wink-smiley' at end of the text. I was so charged, Diary, that I can't even begin to explain the emotions that I was feeling. And here's what I wrote, "Can't wait. Know just the place! :)"
And that, Diary, was the end of my interaction with JPT! And when I looked at the grandfather clock across from me, it was already evening. So maybe I calculated the time wrong while messaging him, or maybe I just lost track of time. Whatever!!
So, here was the story of my super-exciting day!!! I know you're waiting for more, and frankly, I can't wait for it either!!
Till next time then, Diary. Have a good night! Toodles!!