The fiction story

The Diary of the Espresso Woman. Part 18.

So here I am in London, supposed to be having a romantic weekend with my boyfriend.

Instead I’m trapped in his apartment sleeping on his couch…

If I had the money I’d go to a hotel. But I don’t have the money and I do not know anybody else here.

Maybe I am overreacting? So he didn’t tell me everything, he got the job that was supposed to be mine. He got married to a colleague as a cover up for her being gay. So what? Did he have to tell me all that? I guess not?

Why did he even want me here at the company’s anniversary party?

“I thought it would have been all over by now.” That was his answer. He thought that he’d be divorced by now, Diane would have moved out. C’est tout.

Diane had actually declared at work that they were about to split up and that’s why I could be with my boyfriend at the party. And I didn’t even think it was weird that he didn’t introduce me to anyone as his girlfriend. He had very smoothly slipped over that part and just told everybody my name and nothing about us two.

And so the big question is here: is there “us two” at all? What do we have here? What is it?

I tried to talk to him but all he said was that he was sorry and he looked so miserable that I just hate him for that. I don’t know what I want him to do or say now but I just don’t like him like this…. I just don’t like him any more… Maybe I don’t love him any more…

At the same time he seems to be all mine now. Ready to move in with me, ready for anything to cheer me up.

It’s like I got a huge box for a birthday present and when I open it, it’s empty. I don’t see anything in there. Not anything I’d like to have…

I want to go home. I want to leave so badly.


Home at last. The three days in London seemed like forever.

I didn’t tell him that we’re over when I left. I left him hanging. Is it cruel? ’cause I know it’s over for me.

And why do I feel so sad then? Why do I feel like I was dumped? Rejected. Left out.

Now I have no job, no boyfriend and no money. Great.

But I don’t feel like crying. I feel like it’s time to be an Espresso Woman again. All black and strong.


I don’t want to waist any time and when I get a call for a job interview I accept it. I will use every chance now.


The morning of the job interview is bright and shiny. It’s one of those days that you would describe as “When she left home that morning she had no idea what would happen”. Well…

I feel good. I haven’t eaten much for days (I’m not proud of it!) and my best clothes fit me perfectly now. It gives me confidence and I do leave home in a great mood.

Outside I notice a dark cloud on the horizon and I think about the umbrella I didn’t take. Oh well, it hasn’t rained properly for so long, I don’t think that I will need an umbrella. It doesn’t go with my outfit anyway.

At the moment I reach the bus it starts pouring. Heavily. I hope it will stop by the time I have to leave the bus.

But it doesn’t.

I need to change buses in the city centre and it starts raining even worse when I step out. I’m wet to my skin in a second.

The next bus stop is in front of a fancy hotel. I know that they have a bathroom in the lobby and as I have ten minutes till my next bus I decide to dry myself a little with paper towels.

My hair looks like I have just washed it and I feel my pants sticking to my legs. Is there anything I can still do?

In the hotel lobby there’s a big sign for the guests of a NATO conference being held right there and right then. The morning coffee is being served at this very moment on the 7th floor… Oh, how I wish I could just smuggle myself in there and drink hot coffee. I bet they talk about some interesting things there. Could I pass as a journalist maybe? Hmm…, these days you don’t want to mess with a NATO conference.

Anyway. I go to the bathroom and I start feeling cold in my wet clothes.

When I board my next bus the rain almost stops. But by the time I have to step outside it starts raining even heavier.

The place where I’m going for a job interview is on the outskirts of the city in the middle of nowhere. I know that I’d still have to walk for about 15 minutes from the bus stop.

Bu I’m already wet as can be!

I try to call a cab but with such heavy rain I cannot even get on line. Everybody wants a cab now. The one cab company I do get in touch with says that I could have a cab in about half an hour. But I only have ten minutes till the interview. I’m already going to be late.

I decide to walk there somehow. I start looking at the map on my i-phone but suddenly the battery dies… I knew that the battery was old an unreliable but it was supposed to last for some time. I guess I shouldn’t have surfed on the internet on the bus on my way here…

I’m standing in the pouring rain and I just try to hail a passing car. There are some cars passing by but no one stops! Why don’t they stop? I’m a woman in the middle of the rain and they just don’t care at all?!

OK. I’ll just walk there. I kind of know the direction where I’m supposed to head.

But I’m so wet and cold… I start remembering that this is not a boot camp. It’s not about who makes it there. I have to make an impression on the job interview. How will I make that soaking wet? And I can’t even call them!

I can’t believe that I’m in a situation like this.

I  decide to wait for the returning bus. What else could I do?


Later, when I call the company the lady answering the phone is cold as ice. I feel that she is mad at me even before I start to speak. I try to explain but my story comes out all “the dog ate my homework”. I mean, it is a lame story but things happen. Have a sense of humor, please! It’s not the end of the world!

Well, she says that maybe they will call me if they find a new time available. Maybe. She doesn’t sound very promising.

Oh well. At least I tried.

I pour myself some hot coffee and include a splash of whiskey in it. I’m freezing here, don’t judge me! If I had some whipped cream I could make this coffee Irish… But all I have in my fridge is emptiness.

Whatever. I’ll just have coffee with whiskey. Strong gets stronger. The Espresso Woman will not give up. You’ll see!

To be continued next Monday.




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