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“Hey Shannon did you have a good weekend?” One of her male co-workers asked as Shannon got to her desk on a Monday morning.
“Well, I enjoyed my gym visit late on Friday night, but pretty much from when I left the gym I had an absolute nightmare of a weekend if you really want to know.”
“Oh sorry”– the co-worker didn’t know what else to say and went back to looking at his computer screen.
“Oh Shannon, it can’t be that bad”– another co-worker, a woman in her mid-thirties made yourself heard from the desk opposite Shannon. “I’m still sure all you need is a good man. What is a girl like you doing at the gym on a Friday night anyway? You should be swept off you feet by some gorgeous guy.”
“Brenda, please, can we just have one week without matchmaking. Trust me after this weekend the one thing I don’t want, is a man.”
“Bad date?” Brenda continued, seemingly not put off at all by Shannon’s bad mood.
“If that’s easy for you to believe then go with that. I’m sure in Brenda’s world the only way a woman can be in a bad mood is if their Prince Charming turns out to be just another frog”– Shannon switched on her computer and started to check her emails, never actually looking at Brenda whilst she talked to her.
“You must have had some bad experiences to have such a negative opinion of men”– Brenda pressed on.
“It is really not the time to have this conversation”– Shannon said without looking up from her computer screen.
“There are plenty of good guys out there. I just couldn’t get through life being as unromantic as you.”
“You think I’m the unromantic one? You went through... what was it?
Did you go through ten boyfriends in the time of a year? And then you decided to marry one of them? Every guy I see you expect me to ask him out? You probably think I should put an ad in the paper and on line. Women just sit around constantly telling everybody within audible range about all the flaws their boyfriends have. Yet they stay with them because they are so afraid of being alone. Not just actually being alone but everybody knowing they are alone and the judgments that are made about them because of it. Eventually she ties the knot with a guy because ‘he’ll do’. And you have not found a specific reason to break up with the guy yet is a million miles from romantic, if you ask me. I believe there are some great guys out there. And I also believe that one day, somehow I’ll meet one that will be just right for me. What I don’t want to happen is for me to miss out on meeting this great guy because I’ve said yes to some loser who’s plucked up the courage to ask me out and I waste a few months of my life with him. If that makes me the unromantic one then you can keep the romance”– Shannon gave her sermon that she’d practiced in her head several times. But that was the first public airing of it. Actually she looked at Brenda whilst she was talking this time. When she finished Shannon got up to get herself a cup of coffee, not waiting around for any response from Brenda, which in fact was not forthcoming anyway. It was Brenda’s turn to stare at her computer screen, trying to look unflustered by Shannon’s outburst as the other six people in the office look at Brenda.
Shannon went over to the coffee machine and made herself a cup. Whilst she was waiting for the coffee another of her co-workers came over to chat with Shannon.
“Well that was an entertaining start to the week”– Lucy said.
“Glad to brighten your day”– Shannon deadpanned.
“Brenda can get very intrusive at times, she deserved everything you said.”
“Well just wrong time, wrong place for her.”
“Are you sure you are okay? You seem a little, well a little”– Lucy desperately tried to be inoffensive.
“Little more icy cold than normal?” Shannon finished Lucy’s sentence for her.
“Well, yeah.”
“I appreciate your concern Lucy. But really it’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“All right, just letting you know that if ever you need someone to talk to I’ll be ready to listen.”
“I know you will Lucy.”
“We still on for tennis on Wednesday night?”
“Of course, you know I wouldn’t miss that.”
Shannon got through the rest of the workday without too much more attention from her colleagues or feeling the need for any more sermons. When she got home, the first thing she did as always, was to check the letterbox. Four envelopes, three containing boring junk mail the other wasn’t boring but Shannon wished it had been just another piece of junk. On the piece of paper inside that envelope was, scrawled in red ink: ‘YOU WILL PAY FOR WHAT YOU DID.’
She dropped the letter as soon as she read it. She felt very dizzy as if the room was spinning. She staggered to a comfy chair in her living room. She collapsed on it. And tears began to flow on her chin.
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