Bombay Mixx Read Free Page A

join me for a chat with Gabrielle emerging from the bathroom within 5 minutes of the ultimatum.
     
    I was very impressed with my morning and I thought it was a great start to a new week and a new life…and how right I was.
     
    On the packed tube where I was wedged under a stony faced businessman, who looked like his chauffeur was ill and that was why he had to ride the T ube with the commoners, and then I started to wonder (trying not to focus on the armpit I was wedged under or the skinny, pretty suited woman who would rather crush her ribs to squeeze herself onto the T ube, knowing there was not enough space to breathe let alone get her and her huge briefcase on with!), it’s 7.45am and I would expect to be smelling the sweet scent of flowery perfume that makes you think of summertime in the country, sexy, masculine aftershave that makes you think I would love to rip that shirt of your chest just to get a better smell and taste of that sexy aroma , but instead I was smelling… very strong coffee on breaths, sour sweat, cheap, over powering heady scented aftershave and sweet and sickly perfume which made your head spin if you got to close to the culprit!
     
    I had to get off the train!
     
    As soon as the tr ain pulled into my station, I jumped off and ran to the exit as quick as my legs would take me, I needed the air otherwise I would throw up.
    Walking into the huge glass building made feel uneasy and very nervous.
     
    I imagined everyone that worked here w as super human; the women would all be stick thin even though they managed to produce three children, have a perfect husband, who had a high powered job ; they would have a nanny who would look after there three posh offspring in their country home as a city dwelling would not be good enough for the family. The men would all be in suits that would cost the same amount as 6 months worth of my salary, they would wear sexy, expensive aftershave that was not over powering and they would walk arou nd with authority and supremacy. They would not mingle with the workers beneath them as they would have assistants to do that for them.
     
    How accurate I was about the females but surprisingly wrong about the men . ‘ C ould I enjoy working here?’ I thought to myself as I puffed and panted to the huge glass doors, for a sexy looking businessman to hold it open for me and give me a smile.
     
    ‘If these are the perks to the job forget health care and life insurance! I’d just be happy being near him all day!’ That thought quickly left my head as I went to the receptionist desk to announce I was here for my first day of work.
     
    Why is it that if your new to a company or if you don’t look powerful enough to be one of the directors , receptionists always look at you like your something they have scraped off the ir shoe and talk to you with that annoying, whining tone?
     
    I asked myself this as I was greeted by John the receptionist and his “side kick” or colleague, Lucy .
     
    They were both dressed in black suits and looked very smart and groomed but nowhere near the standards of the other, more affluent employees . I seemed to have interrupted a very important conversation about their affairs at the weekend as I stood th ere for a few minutes , then sick of waiting for them to stop ignoring me , I s aid , ‘hello, I’m here to see Ann Lough . ’
     
    ‘And your name is?’ John retorted in the campest tone I’ve heard in a while . ‘ M y name is Nita Patel and it’s my first day today . ’ I saw a sly smile b etween the two of them and Lucy replied, ‘oh good for you, I’ll just call her to see if she’s available. Why don’t you just take a seat over there and she’ll be down in a few minutes . ’
     
    As I sat down waiting for her to make the call, I saw she continued talking about the eventful weekend and this started to make my blood boil.
     
    I could have reminded them about me after 5 minutes of waiting but I thought of a craft i er