Love? A Disaster

♪ 01. Dumb and Dumped ♪

Shahrah-e-Faisal. Traffic. Probably the two words an average Karachiite memorizes over the course of their lives to never forget. It becomes a lifestyle. Hate it all you want but can't do anything about it.

She rested her head on the seat and tapped at the steering wheel impatiently. She was getting late. Tardiness and she didn't go along well but her piece of junk car chose today to ditch on her. It refused to cooperate and she had to take Amal's baby with the promise of not even a scratch. She'd be a fool not to keep her word. Amal was a petty ass monster when it came to her vehicle.

She pursed her lips and did a once-over in the rearview mirror. Her hair fell in layers an inch shy of her shoulders. The makeup was sleek and didn't need any touch-ups. She quickly turned her attention back to the road ahead when her phone started ringing.

Even without looking at the caller ID, she knew who was it. A loud sigh left her mouth and annoyance filled the contours of her features. Normally, by then, any sane person would get a hint that she wouldn't answer but she never considered her boss sane anyway. He wouldn't know even if sanity hit him smack in the face in the shape of a chair. She preferred if she was the one throwing it though.

The corporate world everywhere is a royal pain but in the Pakistani setting, it takes the suffer in insufferable a notch higher. It's not the work that makes you wary, it's the environment. If you get a healthy atmosphere where you do a 9-5 every day (It never is 9-5 though. That's another scam.), congratulations. If not, well, then you and Sila are in the same boat. And that boat is shaking, my friend.

Working as an assistant operation manager for a renowned event management company, she had a love-hate relationship with her job. Love: Everything that it entailed. Hate: Her boss. The thing is, when you have an 'assistant' before your designation, you might be running everything impeccably to the t, but your boss would always look at you as if you're the Chota working on a roadside dhaba. Those little boys run that whole place but it's the stinky uncles behind the counter that take all the credit.

She brought her phone close to her face and saw the name flashing on it. "High Five" next to it there was the middle finger emoji. Yeah, that summed it up about right.

"I just got off work and I have a date. Get lost!" She drawled and cut the call without answering it. Seriously, these guys need to understand basic workplace decorum. Satisfied, she looked around where an elderly woman in the car next to her was giving her an 'are you okay?' stare. She ignored it. What else could she do? The traffic was still moving at the snail's space. To pass time, she kept her gaze on the businesses lining the pavement. The mall with more red heart-shaped banners than she could count. The restaurant where it seemed like a unicorn had thrown up his dinner. The young guy in front of it whose roadside flower stall was mimicking a groom's car.

Reds. Roses. 14th February and it's jazz. She shook her head when a smile graced her lips. But then it turned into a horrifying expression.

She had forgotten to get something for him. Well done, Sila! It wasn't her fault that it was a weekday and she was neck deep in work since the crack of dawn. But getting to a date on valentine's day without a gift? She knew he wouldn't mind but it might be the thought that counts but sometimes gestures are nice as well. Damage control was required. QUICKLY.

She rolled down her window and stuck her head out. She was in the edge lane close to the pavement. Thank God for the little blessings. She waved at the florist who rushed to her car in no time.

"Can you get me a bouquet from your collection?" She asked and the guy didn't need to be told twice. He nodded and ran to his stall. In about two minutes, the bouquet was in her hands, and the money in his. Quick and fair.