Still Unmarried

Chapter 1: There’s only two types of people in the world.

"The entertainer and the observer. Britney Spears, a well-known singer, made that point. So, in this life, did you choose to be an entertainer or an observer? Me? I've never been one to shy away from the spotlight. I always strive to be at the forefront, making my mark. Allow me to explain how I arrived at this conclusion through a personal anecdote. Although it would suffice to meet my word limit, I must admit it might become tedious. And let me assure you, dear reader, I am anything but boring. Anyway, I have never been the primary subject of my column; my dear reader, you have always been and will hopefully remain to be the subject of my writings. And my girls understand that life calls for both roles - sometimes we entertain, and sometimes we observe, depending on the circumstances."

A sound that suppressed the mechanical sound of the keyboard began to spread like a sneaky snake in the living room. Don't be fooled by the fact that it's called a living room, as it was filled to the brim with junk and debris, leaving no space for anyone to actually live in it. There are also doubts that the only thing living in that room was the author herself. Just take the example of the lone last unfinished pizza slice in the box at the top of the piled pizza boxes on the coffee table right next to the computer that had been there for nine days - a testament to the room's state of neglect. In this city, which experienced the hottest summer of the last century, in the house facing the east and in this room, whose air conditioner was broken for some reason, this slice of pizza waited to be eaten for the first two days and eventually formed its own life form in the following days, when it realized that it would never be consumed. You might wonder how the author was clueless about this rot in the room; all the blame was on the air freshener spray machine hanging on the wall in the west corner of the room, spraying scent into the room three times at certain time periods: after breakfast, lunch and, of course, after supper. The only scent she smelled was lavender, and if the author had been paying close attention, she would have noticed that no lavender smells like that.

"You wanna live fancy? Live in a big mansion? Party in France? You better work, b***h, you better work, b***h! You better work, b***h, you better work, b***h! Now get to work, b***h! Now get to work, b***h! Bring it on, ring the alarm."

As the phone rang louder and louder, the writer's fingers pressed harder and harder on the keyboard, attempting to drown out the sound as she struggled to concentrate. In case you don't understand the melody of the phone, the caller is her boss. After several minutes of ignoring the ringing phone, the writer finally gave up and decided to answer it. She reached over to grab the desk calendar which was sitting precariously on the top of a pile of stacked pizza boxes, hoping to check the date before answering the call. As she blindly reached for it, she accidentally knocked over the wine glass that was sitting beside it. The glass spilled its remaining contents onto the table, soaking everything in its path, including her phone. With frustration mounting, the writer cursed under her breath, muttering "b***h!" as she surveyed the damage. Her phone, which had been buzzing on the corner of the table, was now submerged in a sea of red wine. She knew it was ruined and would need to be replaced.

In a fit of exasperation, she sprang up from the table, completely oblivious to the peanut shells that had found a cozy home in her lap. Determined to salvage her phone from impending doom, she frantically grabbed a nearby napkin and vigorously wiped the wet surface, as if performing a CPR on a drowning device. The phone, stubbornly persistent in its ringing, continued to vibrate with annoying urgency.

With a quick decision fueled by desperation, she dashed towards the kitchen, the soundtrack of her phone's incessant ringing echoing through the corridors of her sanity. The mission was clear: save the phone from its watery fate. As she opened the cupboard, her eyes fell upon the solemn jar of rice, patiently waiting for such a calamitous moment.

With a trembling hand, she carefully placed her beloved phone into the rice-filled sanctuary, hoping that the Asian culinary comrades within would work their magic. She clasped her hands together in a fervent prayer, beseeching the phones gods to resurrect her phone's soul from the abyss of liquid calamity. She imagined the tiny grains of rice whispering ancient incantations to revive the drowned device, forming a spiritual alliance that transcended the realms of technology and cuisine.

Just as she was getting caught up in the chaotic phone fiasco, her computer chimed with an obnoxious notification sound, as if mocking her already frazzled state. And guess what? The email came from the exact person she had anticipated it to come from, adding another sprinkle of annoyance to her already overflowing frustration cup. It was like the universe had a wicked sense of humor, playing tricks on her at every turn.

"Gemma, I'm going to completely ignore the fact that you hung up on me. In two hours, you'll have handed me your article that I needed to revise before I can publish it with the magazine."

As she settled down at her computer to compose a response to her boss's email, she couldn't resist the temptation to fire back with a snarky remark. "You know, in order to hang up on you, I would actually need to answer the darn phone first. But guess what? The phone and I aren't on speaking terms right now!"

However, practicality quickly took over as she considered the repercussions on her bank account for the upcoming months. She decided to take the high road (for now) and crafted a more diplomatic response: "Apologies for the inconvenience, but I'm experiencing some technical difficulties with my phone. Not to worry though, the article is already complete, just adding a few final touches. You can expect it in your inbox within the next half an hour!"

She absentmindedly nibbled on the hangnail of her left thumb, only to snap out of it and hastily pull her hand away from her mouth. In an act of distraction, she reached under the table and grabbed a piece of gum from the discarded gum box and quickly popped it into her mouth. As she chewed, her mind couldn't help but wander to the constant interruptions caused by the incessant phone calls. "If that darn phone hadn't been ringing every half hour," she mused, "this article would have been written and wrapped up long ago. Deep down she knew she was to blame, but there was always the temptation to find someone or something else to point the finger at.

As her hungry tummy grumbled, she couldn't help but think about how long it had been since her last meal. The irony struck her - here she was, attempting a 12-hour fasting diet, yet staring at a mountain of pizza on the coffee table. Although her stomach was begging for food, it wasn't time to break the fast yet, considering that she had had breakfast at a leisurely 10 am the day before. However, she could console herself with water or herbal tea. As her hunger growled, she marked "read" the e-mail that cunningly tempted her with a special discount at the newly opened sushi bar in the neighbourhood. With determination, she defiantly declared, "Not today, Satan!" and resisted the temptation to give in to her cravings.

With swift clicks, she opened a new email and eagerly began typing a message adressed to Mike, the tech whiz of the magazine. After all, she took pride in being the matchmaker who had introduced Mike to Nicole, the bright intern who had joined the marketing department a couple of months ago. Now it was high time for Mike to return the favour, and she was about to kindly remind him of that fact.

"Mike, how are you?

I hope you're doing well since my day has been a fiasco. To clarify, wine may have spilled on my company phone and I desperately need that phone. Or do I require a new one? (Could such a thing be possible?) I'm referring to a brand-new one, yeah? f**k the old one if I get the new one.)

Thank you very much indeed.

-Gems.

P.S. I heard you and Nicole were quite serious. After all, I'm genuinely pleased for you that I was the one who introduced you two."



She reread the article she had written for the magazine one final time before sending it to her boss. The doorbell rang at the same time as the notification sounded announcing the arrival of the e-mail. The knocker, on the other hand, could not be on hold until the email was read. As a result, she made her way to the front door. And in the meantime, she checked the living room carefully to see if she had made a mess that she could clean up in five minutes or if an unexpected guest had arrived.

The knocker was, thankfully, the concierge. He'd brought the clothes she'd forgotten about when she dropped them off at the dry cleaners.

"Salim, thank you very much; what would I do without you? I had completely forgotten about these clothes. What's up with Salma? Is she capable of adapting to college life?" She gave a quick peek to see whether there was any cash in the bowl where she kept her keys and coins on the dresser at the entrance while getting the clothes from the concierge. Unfortunately, the answer is no.

"I appreciate it, Mrs D'Anna. Our little Salma is in good spirits at her Italian school thanks to you. Her classes are likewise excellent, and she works really hard in order to become a writer like you. Her current interest is in journalism. She hopes to pursue it in the future." To be a writer, as I am. Salma, be careful what you wish for; it might come true.

She went to her computer after closing the door and hanging her clothes in the cloakroom. There were two emails, one from Mike and the other from her boss. She began by opening the boss's, which wrote: "You did a fantastic job. "There's only two types of people in the world," I can't help but say, which is grammatically wrong. "There are only two types of people in the world," it should have written. Next time, be more careful. I'm too busy to correct these grammatical errors." She rolled her eyes as she looked over the mail, then realized she shouldn't have expected her dinosaur-era boss to understand her pop culture reference. My mistake!

The other email was shorter: "Put it in rice, if it doesn't work out, I'll see it tomorrow morning." After pressing the reply button, she replied with a very short email "Aye Aye Captain!"

She went to the kitchen to check her phone, which was buried in the rice jar. She was praying to the gods of all existing religions that her phone would be fixed. Because her company phone and the information in it were worth a salary of her. When she pressed the power button of the phone, the light indicating that the phone was working came on, but for a short time, then the phone was plunged into darkness again. Don't think badly, maybe your phone just ran out of battery. She went to the living room to get the phone's charging cable, and when she tried to insert the plug into the phone, she realized that it had not entered. Because there was a grain of rice in the phone's goddamn charging socket! Fortunately, the phone can also be charged wirelessly. All she had to do was find the wireless charger for the phone.

She was just heading towards the bedroom when she heard the knock on her door once again. She wasn't waiting for anyone, she had no clothes left in the dry-cleaning, so the person at the door could wait a bit. When the doorbell rang again, she was yelling, "Are you bursting with impatience, I'm coming". She couldn't find the wireless charger either!

Before opening the door, she looked in the mirror at the entrance, tidied herself up, and opened the door without saying "Who is it?" Maybe she wouldn't have opened the door so soon if she had.

After all, her ex-fiancee, who left her with a message on their wedding day, did not return home every day from his world tour.

And yes, there ARE only two types of people in this world: the entertainer and the observer. And our dear writer was one of the observers, whereas her ex-fiancée was one of the entertainers.