Monday, February 4, 2013

The language of love.

The countdown has begun! I have a mere 3 days left at Globotron.

My experience leaving jobs has generally been harried - I always felt like I had a gajillion things to organize and transition. But this gig? I basically feel like I'm waiting for a stoplight to change. There's really no transition because I really never did anything except watch life pass me by.

I did have 1 big to-do to cross off my list, though. I had to tell Maintenance Mercury, my Mexican Freddie Mercury maintenance guy pal, that I'm leaving.

Now, I see Meximercury at least once a day. However, our language barrier has progressed from charming to practically insurmountable. "Hay muchos libros en la biblioteca" doesn't get you very far when you can't find the Spanish words for, "I was kidding when I said you ate too many tamales over Christmas and now you're fat."

What can I say? "Gordo" is one of the few adjectives I remember, and I was trying to be friendly and funny.

I must admit that the language barrier has provided a convenient loophole as well. A few weeks ago, Maintenance Mercury said something that included the term "besame." Now, my vocab is way limited, but even I know this means "kiss me."

I played it off like I didn't understand, and he laughed, and I went on my way.

But Friday, when I told him that "el dia after Miercoles es me dia finalmente aqui?" Because I couldn't remember the word for "Thursday?" Well, my friend was sad, and kept asking if I was going to work someplace else. "Escribo en mi casa" was as close as I could get to explaining that I'm a writer and will be consulting, even though I know it sounds a lot like I'm going to be journaling in my pink-flowered diary like a tween.

So, Meximercury and I chatted our way through that. Then, he pointed to his cheek and said, "Besame?"

Oh, for the love.

Now, when he kissed me on the cheek the first time we met, I decided it didn't make me a strumpet, because that's his culture. But I'm pretty sure there are no cultures where it's kosher to ask a married woman to kiss you in the back hallway of your shared workplace.

I told him no. Tengo un esposo.

He said he has a wife, but she wasn't watching. "Besame? Solomente uno? O tres?"

I shook my head, told him to have a good afternoon, and walked away.

This weekend, I told My Guy about my rather disappointing run-in with Maintenance Mercury. Always going for the strong lead, I said, "So, I got propositioned at work yesterday."

My brilliant and low-key husband didn't miss a beat. "And how did that work out for you?"

4 comments:

cookingwithgas said...

chuckle....it worked out great.

Green Girl in Wisconsin said...

Parting is such sweet sorrow. Even if you didn't kiss goodbye.

Karen (formerly kcinnova) said...

Awww... surprise him with a quick peck on the cheek on his last day. You might be the only bright spot of his daily work, and then he can go home and brag to his wife that he was kissed by a diary writer. ;)

(So says the woman who wouldn't do it!)

Banjo Unfabulousness said...

MyGuy can roll with the punches for sure....... I bet the last 3 days will go VERY VERY slow. Like watching paint dry slow. Do something fun. Wear something risque to the office. Dress like Madonna circa 1985. Chalk your hair funny colors. Wear 2 different socks and 2 different shoes.