Lisa
Me: Will you come to my company holiday party and pretend to be my girlfriend? I will give you a Starbucks gift card.
Momo: My boyfriend's dad is a VP at your company. He and his wife will 100% be there.
Me: Ugh...
Momo: You have loads of friends, can't one of them do it?
Me: Friends is a very loose term.
Momo: Get on Bumble or Tinder?
Me: God no. I just need someone to accompany me. Do you have any friends that want to go? Preferably straight.
Momo: Why straight?
Me: So we don't fall in love.
Momo: Omg... fine I'll ask around.
Me: You're the best!
I put my phone down and stared at my computer screen. I'd exhausted all of my viable contacts. It was only Wednesday; I still had eighteen days until the party, but I couldn't help the feeling of dread that was settling in. What if I couldn't find a date?
It was almost like Nancy sensed my distress, like how sharks sense an animal flailing about miles away and know when to go in for the kill; Nancy was at my desk hardly a minute after I threw my phone down in defeat. She came poised with a clipboard and a giant pen with a Rudolph top on it that lit up when you clicked the pen down. I wanted to gag.
"Yes?" I asked, eying her suspiciously.
"I'm doing RSVPs for the Christmas party. Will you and your... girlfriend be there?"
My panic quickly turned to annoyance. "Yes. You can put me down for two. We'll both be there."
Nancy eyed me, totally unconvinced.
"Is that all? I have a lot of work to do." I said.
"Yes, for now." She spun on her heels and went to talk to others in the office. I scowled and quickly snatched my phone, now scrolling through my Instagram to see if there was perhaps someone from high school or college who would be willing to go with me, even if it was a bit of drive.
