Office drabble: underwater me
underwater me
the office, pam (minor: pam/other(s), pam/toby, pam/jim), pg-13, 840 words, spoilers for ben franklin
When Kelly squeals like, we’ll double, Pam swears that she’s going to lose her mind and it’s not even five-thirty.
It was a slight miscalculation
that my friends
my friends would be waiting
Tori Amos, Barons of Suburbia
1. When Kelly squeals like, we’ll double, Pam swears that she’s going to lose her mind and it’s not even five-thirty.
The tips of her fingers are coated in charcoal and she ignores random bits of curiosity from both Jim and Karen, separate and equal, as if the awkwardness wasn’t bad enough.
She’s got projects, little projects, with her first show coming up in a couple weeks and all she can think about is whether Ted or maybe, Larry will be obnoxious with mountains of acne.
“It’s Paul.”
Ryan slips in when Kelly disappears, wringing his hands as he grabs a couple jelly beans and spins them on the desk.
She blinks. “Paul?”
He nods. “Paul.”
And maybe Ryan smiles (although, she isn’t sure because she hasn’t seen him smile) in reassurance. Because Kelly and double dates need reassurances somewhere, somehow.
He leaves her like this and she starts doodling Paul like eight grade and without the little hearts. Paul is a nice name, a boring name. Paul isn’t Jim or Roy or the guy next door that’s been hitting on her for the past couple weeks. She’s looking forward to it, cautiously optimistic- this is what her mom says.
Five-thirty will become seven soon. This is what she focuses on.
(And, later, Paul is the guy that calls and says project to do like he’s married to paper. She’s a little hopeless now.)
2. “I’m David.”
She blinks, the bar smoke wafting around her as she stares at her martini- since when?- on the counter.
“Hey,” she greets quietly, shaking his hand. Kelly’s off in the corner, waiting for Ryan and grinning at her.
She sighs. David looks like Jim. A Jim, she corrects herself, who brushes his hair and doesn’t roll his sleeves half the time. Her lips purse and this is going to be a problem because she’ll project and she knows that she’s doomed to project. It’s too weird, probably too soon, and so she excuses herself all the while ignoring Kelly’s look of doom.
She knew this was a bad idea and seemingly, it makes her more aware of a strange desperation turning inside of her. She doesn’t want to be alone, but then again who does? It’s a matter of perspective, innocent perspective, and she craves a lost connection.
On her way to the bathroom, she runs into Toby and almost slips. She blushes when his fingers curl around her wrist and she presses close to him to steady her balance in the moment.
“Hey,” he breathes.
Her lips curl, it’s genuine. “Hi. Sorry.”
We’re funny like this, picket lines and secrets, she’s a poem somewhere else and it’s really funny because she’s spent minutes just missing paint instead of settling into this. But Toby looks at her and really looks at her, the whole moment is unsure but far from being clandestine.
“It’s good seeing you,” she offers, slipping away and moving to the bathroom door. Not now. “I- Monday?”
He nods, sliding his hands into his pockets.
“Monday.”
3. There’s a date.
But it’s not fantastic enough for her to remember his name and not how many paintings she needs for her first show.
What she does remember is that he spills wine on her skirt, red staining the blue. She remembers a cold soup and Ryan’s friend (of a friend, Kelly tells her while wrinkling her nose, he, like, smells) tries to shove his tongue down her throat before the car ride home.
She dials Jim’s number, but stops at a six because remember, Pam, we’re not anything anymore.
She watches Law & Order instead. It’s always on.
4. She cops out on this one, nerves really, and stays home with her art and ice cream. Will she ever be ready for this? Yes. No. It’s possible.
But right now, she wants her sanity back. She wants to breathe.
5. Pam meets Jack. And Jack meets Pam.
Ryan’s friend from business school wears glasses and she thinks well, okay after the first time he makes her laugh in circles.
They have dinner in a place that isn’t McDonald’s or the diner in the center of town or that bar with that waitress that’s secretly a hooker. It’s the proverbial ‘hole in the wall’, a quiet French restaurant where she actually admits this is the first time she’s had French food and he’s excited.
“We’ll do it again,” Jack teases. “And the you can say you had it twice.”
She almost smiles.
Jack asks questions, good questions that she’s not used to. And it’s okay, it’s really okay- she can’t do much for self-reassurances, this dating thing is still sort of new for her.
But she’s comfortable, really, and it seems as if he’s making sure that she’s comfortable. It might be the first (second) thing that she likes about him.
“So I’m not good at this,” he says, reaching for her hand. His fingers dust against her palm and she blushes.
Looking away with a smile, small: “Neither am I.”
end.
the office, pam (minor: pam/other(s), pam/toby, pam/jim), pg-13, 840 words, spoilers for ben franklin
When Kelly squeals like, we’ll double, Pam swears that she’s going to lose her mind and it’s not even five-thirty.
It was a slight miscalculation
that my friends
my friends would be waiting
Tori Amos, Barons of Suburbia
1. When Kelly squeals like, we’ll double, Pam swears that she’s going to lose her mind and it’s not even five-thirty.
The tips of her fingers are coated in charcoal and she ignores random bits of curiosity from both Jim and Karen, separate and equal, as if the awkwardness wasn’t bad enough.
She’s got projects, little projects, with her first show coming up in a couple weeks and all she can think about is whether Ted or maybe, Larry will be obnoxious with mountains of acne.
“It’s Paul.”
Ryan slips in when Kelly disappears, wringing his hands as he grabs a couple jelly beans and spins them on the desk.
She blinks. “Paul?”
He nods. “Paul.”
And maybe Ryan smiles (although, she isn’t sure because she hasn’t seen him smile) in reassurance. Because Kelly and double dates need reassurances somewhere, somehow.
He leaves her like this and she starts doodling Paul like eight grade and without the little hearts. Paul is a nice name, a boring name. Paul isn’t Jim or Roy or the guy next door that’s been hitting on her for the past couple weeks. She’s looking forward to it, cautiously optimistic- this is what her mom says.
Five-thirty will become seven soon. This is what she focuses on.
(And, later, Paul is the guy that calls and says project to do like he’s married to paper. She’s a little hopeless now.)
2. “I’m David.”
She blinks, the bar smoke wafting around her as she stares at her martini- since when?- on the counter.
“Hey,” she greets quietly, shaking his hand. Kelly’s off in the corner, waiting for Ryan and grinning at her.
She sighs. David looks like Jim. A Jim, she corrects herself, who brushes his hair and doesn’t roll his sleeves half the time. Her lips purse and this is going to be a problem because she’ll project and she knows that she’s doomed to project. It’s too weird, probably too soon, and so she excuses herself all the while ignoring Kelly’s look of doom.
She knew this was a bad idea and seemingly, it makes her more aware of a strange desperation turning inside of her. She doesn’t want to be alone, but then again who does? It’s a matter of perspective, innocent perspective, and she craves a lost connection.
On her way to the bathroom, she runs into Toby and almost slips. She blushes when his fingers curl around her wrist and she presses close to him to steady her balance in the moment.
“Hey,” he breathes.
Her lips curl, it’s genuine. “Hi. Sorry.”
We’re funny like this, picket lines and secrets, she’s a poem somewhere else and it’s really funny because she’s spent minutes just missing paint instead of settling into this. But Toby looks at her and really looks at her, the whole moment is unsure but far from being clandestine.
“It’s good seeing you,” she offers, slipping away and moving to the bathroom door. Not now. “I- Monday?”
He nods, sliding his hands into his pockets.
“Monday.”
3. There’s a date.
But it’s not fantastic enough for her to remember his name and not how many paintings she needs for her first show.
What she does remember is that he spills wine on her skirt, red staining the blue. She remembers a cold soup and Ryan’s friend (of a friend, Kelly tells her while wrinkling her nose, he, like, smells) tries to shove his tongue down her throat before the car ride home.
She dials Jim’s number, but stops at a six because remember, Pam, we’re not anything anymore.
She watches Law & Order instead. It’s always on.
4. She cops out on this one, nerves really, and stays home with her art and ice cream. Will she ever be ready for this? Yes. No. It’s possible.
But right now, she wants her sanity back. She wants to breathe.
5. Pam meets Jack. And Jack meets Pam.
Ryan’s friend from business school wears glasses and she thinks well, okay after the first time he makes her laugh in circles.
They have dinner in a place that isn’t McDonald’s or the diner in the center of town or that bar with that waitress that’s secretly a hooker. It’s the proverbial ‘hole in the wall’, a quiet French restaurant where she actually admits this is the first time she’s had French food and he’s excited.
“We’ll do it again,” Jack teases. “And the you can say you had it twice.”
She almost smiles.
Jack asks questions, good questions that she’s not used to. And it’s okay, it’s really okay- she can’t do much for self-reassurances, this dating thing is still sort of new for her.
But she’s comfortable, really, and it seems as if he’s making sure that she’s comfortable. It might be the first (second) thing that she likes about him.
“So I’m not good at this,” he says, reaching for her hand. His fingers dust against her palm and she blushes.
Looking away with a smile, small: “Neither am I.”
end.