Monday, December 19, 2022

Life as a World War II submarine movie February 11, 2013

  


When you talk about a spy in the house of life, you can’t help but mean people like the salesman, J, who is without a doubt attracted to her, but may be scared he might blow it with his current girlfriend if he makes a move.

I get the impression she’s attracted to him as well, at least; she liked hanging out in his corner of the office when she still worked there.

And now that she’s gone, he’s one of those she still maintains contact with, including our former temporary boss, the owner, outgoing writer, A, and, of course, the office gossip.

Yet from my brief conversation with our former temporary boss last week, her contact with these people may be minimal, an occasional comment on social media, or in the case of our former temporary boss, an occasional call on the phone – just enough to keep him interested (the way the guy from the shelter is still interested).

Our owner, however, most likely has the most contact physically, but gauging from the conversation in Facebook last night, she and J talk pretty frequently, if only by social media – although she clearly has some second thoughts about what was said since she went back and edited out some of the conversation later.

This reminded me of something she cautioned me about early last year about posting remarks on her Facebook page.

“Other people have access,” she said, “including my family.”

Still, I get the impression she needs Facebook as a kind of recruiting tool, and as a means to keep her legend of loyal followers to feel as if they are still connected.

In one recent on-line conversation with a guy, she reverted to the old Mae West line, “why don’t you come up and see me some time,” only to edited this out later as well.

I may have gotten J in trouble with her because I asked him to contact her about using some of the photos, she had taken that the owner wanted me to retake for our website. This resulted in my getting banned again from her Facebook account and losing even the alternative avenues to communication such as through J or Barbara.

But I suspect she may maintain some link to my Facebook account that I’m not aware of, if only to keep track of what I am posting.

Banning someone has the dubious benefit of preventing you from accessing their pages, and I’m sure my posts make her nervous, even though I haven’t posted anything about her since early fall.

Her seeing me posting messages to J and Barbara must have caused her to go into a fit.

Or perhaps J told her, which would be more problematic, since he is someone I have confided in over the last year – especially during that period last summer when she or our former temporary boss appeared to be trying to get me fired.

But she can’t afford to abandon her Facebook page, any more than she can change her email or phone number. Too many connections ride on these things.

Sometimes, I think we’re living in an old World War II submarine movie. She suspects I’m out here somewhere in the deeps, but just can’t seem to locate me precisely, leaving her to imagine what I might be up to, even when in reality I’m not up to anything at all.

 

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