I miss Greyhound. Having my coworkers and the drivers around pretty much made for the best work environment I've ever been in. That includes Uniqlo, Sunglass Hut, one shift at Dominos and Apple. At Greyhound, the boys and I managed to make it work through a mutual fondness for each other. The best thing about only working with guys is that there's never any hard feelings. The moment something's wrong they will let you know about it, you fix it and that's it, never comes up again. Guy are simple that way. Greyhound became my second home in Canberra, in a way. There was comfort and security in the job's predictability. There was no supervisor and my coworkers were like my Canberra family. I was their 'blonde Asian', a little inside joke between us that made them pretend to treat me like their ditzy, hyperactive little sister, which suited me well because we could all be relaxed and goofy and play Bananas in Pyjamas from my iPhone whilst getting paid. But of course, there's no such thing as perfect coworkers. CH sometimes got pissed easily, CA was all up everyone's business sometimes and then there was D.
First thing that comes to mind when I think of him? He was lazy as fuck. I was the one who always had to take the trash out, do manifests and coach delay tracking. I sure boarded a hell of a lot more buses than he ever did.
D was stubborn and stuck to his rigid ways. In one situation he really didn't make sense but still kept on arguing with the regional retail manager. It ended up being a 21 year old employee awkwardly throwing shade at a 55 year old authority figure.
D was sensitive. He once told me he would log off his computer for me to log on. Jokingly I said 'you better'. He turned around and quietly said 'never speak to me like that again'. And he wasn't joking.
D was also super unintelligent sometimes. He was once 2 hours late for work on his 8:45 am shift and his excuse was he fell asleep whilst trying to pull an all nighter. His reason for trying to pull an all nighter? Because his phone was out of battery, he had no charger, thus he could not use his phone as an alarm for work. Never mind the fact that he had siblings and parents that lived with him, never mind the fact that there had to be at least one other technological device in his house that could function as an alarm. For his sake I hoped he was just really bad (like, REALLY bad) at telling lies. Because if that were the truth, I would truly fear for his capabilities at doing anything in life.
According to D, he was shy as well. Only with strangers, apparently. He let me know that by my 3rd day at Greyhound. He would barely make eye contact with me the entire 5 months we worked together.
Don't get me wrong. D might have been immature and enjoyed bossing me around but was not a bad person at heart. He was funny, sarcastic and not a total dick. If he was ever rude he never meant it in a hurtful way. He would attempt conversation sometimes and ask me questions, or he would talk about random stuff. In all actuality, we barely talked to each other that much considering the amount of time we spent working together often just the two of us. We just didn't connect or mesh or have much in common to talk about.
Oh, and one more thing about D. He was undoubtedly one of the best looking coworkers I'd ever had. He was a tall Samoan guy, and had a rugged Polynesian look about him. He had dark eyes and hair, a pretty nice fit physique and a Samoan tattoo around his upper arm. Admittedly not usually my type, but for some reason I wanted him pretty bad. He wasn't quite black, more a darkish brown (although he would always joke he was black and 'ghetto' and once when I asked him whether he thought he was being too obvious when he took money to the bank in a cloth bag, he pointed out no one would rob a black guy in a beanie).
As for his opinion of me, he thought I was pretty unintelligent, messy (he was a clean freak) and lazy. Which points 1 and 3 were already number one adjectives I'd use to describe him. We irritated each other frequently enough. Never full blown arguments, more annoyed tones of voice. We were the two 'babies' of Greyhound, as CA and CH who were both 27 liked to put it. Me being 19, and D having just turned 21 meant the other guys thought of us the little ones of the 'family'.
We were attracted to each other. That much I could tell from early on. Much as we drove each other crazy sometimes, it was undeniable that we had great physical chemistry. I would 'accidentally' watch him sometimes, just because his face was so damn nice to look at. He would gauge my reaction when he spoke about hot girls or going to the gym. I would giggle and act girly around him. He would 'accidentally' touch me sometimes or ask me to 'help' him with the randomest things which involved us sitting close together, whether it be buying something on eBay or reserving Chris Brown tickets or laminating movie tickets.
The first time we had a closing shift together CA went, 'you have a closing shift together next week, that should be exciting'. Then proceeded to smirk at D. There were other instances like that too involving drivers hinting at things.
But we never outright flirted, especially not in front of our other coworkers or drivers. There was me and my low self esteem, and him and his ego and fear of being rejected most likely.
I guess it's not much of a plot twist for me to admit I ended up sleeping with D on my last day of work. I'd been thinking of doing it for awhile. I'd even jokingly told my best friend a month prior that I would. But I didn't think it would actually end up happening. My last shift was last Thursday. Last Wednesday, he lingered around after work and waited for me to finish my stuff after he'd done his work. We walked together towards the direction of his car. He asked me if I wanted a lift, him knowing full well that I lived 5 minutes walk away from work. I refused, if only because my place was super messy so I wouldn't have invited him up anyway no matter how attracted I was to him. That's when I knew he was open to the idea. He'd never offered me a lift before.
The next day at work, everything went as normal. For the whole day. Then, with 15 minutes to go, I stated 'today was boring'. It took him a few seconds to respond 'I wish I'd taken the bus'. When I asked him why, he said it was so we could go for drinks after work because I hadn't been out yet in Canberra, as I'd previously mentioned to him. I convinced him we could still go for a few drinks. I wanted him pretty badly so to speak, at the risk of sounding like a poorly written romance novel.
We had more than a few. We had six each. I started getting drunk drunk. I was holding onto his arm. At one point I recall us playing video games. I remember confessing embarrassing drunk stories to him. I remember him confessing to me that he thought our previous 50 year old manager was 'pretty hot'. Eventually I suggested going back to mine, but I was still sober enough to conceal it under the guise of there being 'more vodka in my fridge'. Whilst we were out, he never made any moves on me or even touched me. He'd previously mentioned his hatred for PDA's, plus he was still an immature 21 year old who feared rejection and needed his ego stroked.
We were attracting the bemused looks and stares of Chinese international students on the way up to my room, because no Samoan guy with drunk Chinese-Australian girl had probably ever set foot in the building together before. As soon as we entered my room, I collapsed onto the bed, he grabbed my face and we started making out.
It's pretty easy to deduce what happened next. He left at 11, because he had told his mum we had gone out for drinks for the 'casual who was leaving'. There wasn't any cuddling or intimacy. Neither of us are like that with people we know. Halfway through he marvelled crudely, 'I can't believed we just fucked'.
I never liked D. I tolerated him because he was a coworker. That isn't to say I didn't not like him, and I wouldn't exactly have called it hate sex. But still now, a week later, if feels funny. There's something so bizarrely sentimental about one night standing with a coworker you knew (but weren't quite friends with) for 5 months, then moving to Sydney and knowing you probably won't see him again. I've never felt the same about any other guy.
I saw him again on Monday when I left on the bus for Sydney. I could tell he had probably told CA what happened, because they were both smirking. Heck the day of the iPhone 6s launch, incidentally the morning after we slept together and 5 minutes before my shift at Apple started, a driver who had my number called me up and went, 'I heard you went out for a couple drinks on Thursday'. I asked him what else D had said, but the driver wouldn't tell. He left my shirt at mine, so I gave it to him on Monday. All he did was laugh. We never mentioned what happened at all, not alone or in front of my coworker. On this day, my last day in Canberra, I had horrible food poisoning which meant leaving Apple early and having to go to Greyhound as I already had checked out of my room. D offered to let me lay down in his car because I wasn't feeling well. This was something that was uncharacteristically nice of him to do. And I'm glad my last memory of him is a relatively nice one. We hugged (I hugged all the Greyhound boys) and that was it.
I don't know why I can't stop thinking about it. I've never been this sentimental over anyone I've slept with.
I guess mulling over it won't really help. What's done has been done, I don't really regret it (although we didn't use protection, I don't think I'd get pregnant or anything). I probably won't see him again, heck I never even really liked him.
It's over, a random one time thing, I don't have to think about it or make sense of it, and that's that.
Don't get me wrong. D might have been immature and enjoyed bossing me around but was not a bad person at heart. He was funny, sarcastic and not a total dick. If he was ever rude he never meant it in a hurtful way. He would attempt conversation sometimes and ask me questions, or he would talk about random stuff. In all actuality, we barely talked to each other that much considering the amount of time we spent working together often just the two of us. We just didn't connect or mesh or have much in common to talk about.
Oh, and one more thing about D. He was undoubtedly one of the best looking coworkers I'd ever had. He was a tall Samoan guy, and had a rugged Polynesian look about him. He had dark eyes and hair, a pretty nice fit physique and a Samoan tattoo around his upper arm. Admittedly not usually my type, but for some reason I wanted him pretty bad. He wasn't quite black, more a darkish brown (although he would always joke he was black and 'ghetto' and once when I asked him whether he thought he was being too obvious when he took money to the bank in a cloth bag, he pointed out no one would rob a black guy in a beanie).
As for his opinion of me, he thought I was pretty unintelligent, messy (he was a clean freak) and lazy. Which points 1 and 3 were already number one adjectives I'd use to describe him. We irritated each other frequently enough. Never full blown arguments, more annoyed tones of voice. We were the two 'babies' of Greyhound, as CA and CH who were both 27 liked to put it. Me being 19, and D having just turned 21 meant the other guys thought of us the little ones of the 'family'.
We were attracted to each other. That much I could tell from early on. Much as we drove each other crazy sometimes, it was undeniable that we had great physical chemistry. I would 'accidentally' watch him sometimes, just because his face was so damn nice to look at. He would gauge my reaction when he spoke about hot girls or going to the gym. I would giggle and act girly around him. He would 'accidentally' touch me sometimes or ask me to 'help' him with the randomest things which involved us sitting close together, whether it be buying something on eBay or reserving Chris Brown tickets or laminating movie tickets.
The first time we had a closing shift together CA went, 'you have a closing shift together next week, that should be exciting'. Then proceeded to smirk at D. There were other instances like that too involving drivers hinting at things.
But we never outright flirted, especially not in front of our other coworkers or drivers. There was me and my low self esteem, and him and his ego and fear of being rejected most likely.
I guess it's not much of a plot twist for me to admit I ended up sleeping with D on my last day of work. I'd been thinking of doing it for awhile. I'd even jokingly told my best friend a month prior that I would. But I didn't think it would actually end up happening. My last shift was last Thursday. Last Wednesday, he lingered around after work and waited for me to finish my stuff after he'd done his work. We walked together towards the direction of his car. He asked me if I wanted a lift, him knowing full well that I lived 5 minutes walk away from work. I refused, if only because my place was super messy so I wouldn't have invited him up anyway no matter how attracted I was to him. That's when I knew he was open to the idea. He'd never offered me a lift before.
The next day at work, everything went as normal. For the whole day. Then, with 15 minutes to go, I stated 'today was boring'. It took him a few seconds to respond 'I wish I'd taken the bus'. When I asked him why, he said it was so we could go for drinks after work because I hadn't been out yet in Canberra, as I'd previously mentioned to him. I convinced him we could still go for a few drinks. I wanted him pretty badly so to speak, at the risk of sounding like a poorly written romance novel.
We had more than a few. We had six each. I started getting drunk drunk. I was holding onto his arm. At one point I recall us playing video games. I remember confessing embarrassing drunk stories to him. I remember him confessing to me that he thought our previous 50 year old manager was 'pretty hot'. Eventually I suggested going back to mine, but I was still sober enough to conceal it under the guise of there being 'more vodka in my fridge'. Whilst we were out, he never made any moves on me or even touched me. He'd previously mentioned his hatred for PDA's, plus he was still an immature 21 year old who feared rejection and needed his ego stroked.
We were attracting the bemused looks and stares of Chinese international students on the way up to my room, because no Samoan guy with drunk Chinese-Australian girl had probably ever set foot in the building together before. As soon as we entered my room, I collapsed onto the bed, he grabbed my face and we started making out.
It's pretty easy to deduce what happened next. He left at 11, because he had told his mum we had gone out for drinks for the 'casual who was leaving'. There wasn't any cuddling or intimacy. Neither of us are like that with people we know. Halfway through he marvelled crudely, 'I can't believed we just fucked'.
I never liked D. I tolerated him because he was a coworker. That isn't to say I didn't not like him, and I wouldn't exactly have called it hate sex. But still now, a week later, if feels funny. There's something so bizarrely sentimental about one night standing with a coworker you knew (but weren't quite friends with) for 5 months, then moving to Sydney and knowing you probably won't see him again. I've never felt the same about any other guy.
I saw him again on Monday when I left on the bus for Sydney. I could tell he had probably told CA what happened, because they were both smirking. Heck the day of the iPhone 6s launch, incidentally the morning after we slept together and 5 minutes before my shift at Apple started, a driver who had my number called me up and went, 'I heard you went out for a couple drinks on Thursday'. I asked him what else D had said, but the driver wouldn't tell. He left my shirt at mine, so I gave it to him on Monday. All he did was laugh. We never mentioned what happened at all, not alone or in front of my coworker. On this day, my last day in Canberra, I had horrible food poisoning which meant leaving Apple early and having to go to Greyhound as I already had checked out of my room. D offered to let me lay down in his car because I wasn't feeling well. This was something that was uncharacteristically nice of him to do. And I'm glad my last memory of him is a relatively nice one. We hugged (I hugged all the Greyhound boys) and that was it.
I don't know why I can't stop thinking about it. I've never been this sentimental over anyone I've slept with.
I guess mulling over it won't really help. What's done has been done, I don't really regret it (although we didn't use protection, I don't think I'd get pregnant or anything). I probably won't see him again, heck I never even really liked him.
It's over, a random one time thing, I don't have to think about it or make sense of it, and that's that.
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