Published in the Daily Monitor

I was a twenty four year old receptionist and deeply in love with the gu-child I was dating at the time. I knew he was my sun and stars, my honey-boo-boo and the lucky man I was going to have my children with.

So I happily went to work with fond memories of my time with him the evening before. I remember there had been a bit of a disagreement on the street but nothing major. I sat down at my desk and switched on my computer and logged into Facebook. I saw I had received a Facebook message from honey-boo-boo.

“Oh, how sweet”, I thought. “He wanted this to be the first thing I saw when I came in to work!”

It was a long message telling me my services as girlfriend were over, no longer required and never would be. Something about me making fun of his trousers on the street in front of his brother and friend, and how could I embarrass him like that and he wanted nothing more to do with such a horrid inconsiderate person.

I first thought, “He’s dumping me over his trousers?”; and then I thought “He’s dumping me on Facebook?”; and then I thought “He wanted this to be the first thing I saw when I came in to work!”

crying girl

Reader, I still had some residue of delicate feminine emotions at the time. I whimpered and sniffed as I fought back tears. They forced their way out and I let them slide freely. A male customer who had approached my desk took one look at me and asked, “Are you okay?”

And that is when I started to sob. Long, dry heaving sobs.


“No, I’m not okay”, I cried. “Leave me alone!”

He reached across the desk, patted me on the shoulder and said: “Let me not disturb you. Just point me to so and so’s office”.

Still crying, I waved my hand vaguely. I swiveled in my chair with mucus beginning to collect as for ten whole minutes, I watched this poor customer walk up and down stairs and go in and out of wrong corridors. Every time he passed me he said the same thing.

“Please don’t worry. You cry. I can find the office myself!”.

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