Hall of Infinite Doors
You touch Tricia's elbow and turn to walk through the gardens. They remind you of some sort of French manicured garden you've seen in movies. As you walk you chat and joke about people around the office. She seems shy and slightly repressed. You playfully touch her arm as you walk, which seems to make her smile and bring her out.
You arrive at a bench along the path and invite her to sit. As she leans forward to sit, you wonder why she doesn't topple forward, what with so much weight up front. She crosses her legs and places the white towel she is carrying over them.
"You know what is the most difficult part of this job, Charlie?" she asks, leaning forward. "It's the sex."
You look at her quizzically.
"I mean," she says, softening her voice and leaning forward, "everybody does it, but everybody hides it. And it's like if you want to get back at someone, you sleep with whoever they're sleeping with in order to show them you can do it too. They'res such a pecking order about it. I feel so constrained. The other girls all brag or discuss about this and about that, about who does whom, and so on. I feel like I can't compete. Sometimes I want to be warm with everyone. Other times I feel so emotionally overextended and invaded."
"You have to quit playing the game," you suggest.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, obviously you want certain intimate relationships. But they need to be people you trust. Not random relationships. It has to be clear that they can be with other people. Or, if you're not comfortable with that, that they won't be with someone you're not comfortable with. You know? That way you can always have an emotional base."
"That's a wonderful idea," she says.
You continue walking, and she changes the subject to random experiences she's had at other outings.
You come to the far side of the property. There are some bushes just before a high fence. Tricia smiles and leads you through the bushes. She suddenly pauses and looks down. You glance where she is looking and see a young executive exercising his masculinity on a beautiful young intern.
You both back off and Tricia has a look of grief on her face. You walk back in silence, and both then join the raging party.
Towards the end of the evening, as you are cleaning up, Tricia approaches you. Her eyes are slightly glazed from fatigue.
"I'm so sorry for blowing you off earlier. Some of the girls are having an after party. Maybe you'd like to come?"
You arrive at a bench along the path and invite her to sit. As she leans forward to sit, you wonder why she doesn't topple forward, what with so much weight up front. She crosses her legs and places the white towel she is carrying over them.
"You know what is the most difficult part of this job, Charlie?" she asks, leaning forward. "It's the sex."
You look at her quizzically.
"I mean," she says, softening her voice and leaning forward, "everybody does it, but everybody hides it. And it's like if you want to get back at someone, you sleep with whoever they're sleeping with in order to show them you can do it too. They'res such a pecking order about it. I feel so constrained. The other girls all brag or discuss about this and about that, about who does whom, and so on. I feel like I can't compete. Sometimes I want to be warm with everyone. Other times I feel so emotionally overextended and invaded."
"You have to quit playing the game," you suggest.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, obviously you want certain intimate relationships. But they need to be people you trust. Not random relationships. It has to be clear that they can be with other people. Or, if you're not comfortable with that, that they won't be with someone you're not comfortable with. You know? That way you can always have an emotional base."
"That's a wonderful idea," she says.
You continue walking, and she changes the subject to random experiences she's had at other outings.
You come to the far side of the property. There are some bushes just before a high fence. Tricia smiles and leads you through the bushes. She suddenly pauses and looks down. You glance where she is looking and see a young executive exercising his masculinity on a beautiful young intern.
You both back off and Tricia has a look of grief on her face. You walk back in silence, and both then join the raging party.
Towards the end of the evening, as you are cleaning up, Tricia approaches you. Her eyes are slightly glazed from fatigue.
"I'm so sorry for blowing you off earlier. Some of the girls are having an after party. Maybe you'd like to come?"