Idea Completion: What would be going on in the mind of a young office assistant biting her nails?


He had always known her to be calm, cool, and collected. Today was different though. When ever he walked into the office she would look up at him with a smile and a happy greeting. They would flirt a little as women often did with him. It must be the uniform, he often thought. Now she sat at her desk practically gnawing on her fingers, her eyes shifted back and forth between her boss’s door and her computer.

He found this extremely odd. First off, her nails were meticulous. He knew from past conversations she got a manicure at least once a week. She was very proud of that. She told him that she felt “put together” when her nails were done. Secondly, the way her eyes darted about was just off. She never seemed to be anything less than confident. Sometimes exceedingly so for the position she held. He knew she felt being an assistant was a stepping stone to further her career. He was a little worried about her at this point, she hadn’t noticed his arrival. What is she thinking?

Oh shit, she thought pulling her hand away from her mouth, what am I going to do? She had been up worrying all weekend about what would happen today at the office. Maybe he didn’t see me, she prayed. She tried to will her eyes away from his office door but just couldn’t stop herself. She thought she heard someone come in the door but she was too preoccupied thinking about the shit storm that was going to drop down.

She noticed belatedly that she had chewed off most of her nails. On Saturday morning she had began with just a finger, by midafternoon it was three. By Sunday morning she had chipped all the nail polish off and she was pissed. It was her favorite color- O.P.I.’s I’m Not Really A Waitress, and now that’s what she may end up as.

I can’t believe this is happening, she thought lifting her pointer finger to her mouth. I am never going to that club again. No, in fact I’m never going to any club again. Or bar. Anywhere that serves alcohol. What a fool I must have made of myself, standing on the bar with Gigi and dancing like it was my last night on earth. Damn Def Leppard. Who would actually want someone to pour sugar on them. Friggin’ hair bands! I’m also boycotting Brit hair bands, she decided.

While she was up there gyrating she thought she had seen her boss in one of the booths. At first she didn’t think anything of it, it was a Friday after 5pm, and the night was hers. But then she realized she only got in here because of who she worked for. She also knew many of his clients came here. She was so screwed, and not in the good way. She climbed down from the bar, stumbled into a few guys and made it to the bathroom before she could confirm if it was him. That’s what she spent the whole weekend thinking about- what if it was him? What would he do to her? What could he do? Legally, could he fire her? That would just be the icing on the cake.
If it wasn’t bad enough that her boss may have caught her show on Friday night but before that she came home to her roommate telling her she was moving out the following week. There was no way she could find a suitable roommate by then and there was definitely no way she could afford the place by herself. That’s why she went out, to drink and dance her worries away for a little while.

Maybe if I just go in there and head him off he’ll think I’m brave or owning my actions and let it go. If not I can always cry and tell him why I was there doing what I was doing. Ugh, I have no nails left. And I’m going to be homeless and unemployed. I’m just going to walk in there and lay it all on the line. I’ll apologize for my behavior and for making the company look bad in front of clients. He’ll hear me out, he may even sympathize, and maybe I can at least keep my job. At least if I keep my job I can get my nails done.