I think I have decided that Heidelberg can no longer be my friend. I must say my hours at the office will start becoming less entertaining once I put some distance between us, but I believe my reasons are not entirely what you’d call whimsical. Here they are in good, old-fashioned bullets:
- She is too pretty, not enough to tempt me into heterosexuality, but plenty enough to attract men in huge quantities. I am not exaggerating ; she is infamous for causing many untimely deaths when, entering a room occupied by several males, she makes heads turn by 180 degrees. But I do not mourn for these sad souls. What annoys me is the fact that whenever I’m seen with Heidelberg, men give me murderous stares. My inherently male desire to be envied dictated at first that this is nice. But when an officemate declared her undisguised horror when she found out (quite belatedly) that I am, in fact, gay, I instantly knew that not everything is all right.
- Also, I am losing weight again. Whatever meager improvements I have so far managed lately, Heidelberg has singlehandedly cancelled them out. The bouts of depression now and then of course did it, too, but it certainly did not help that Heidelberg shared my opinion on the benefits of alternate fasting . (We rarely ate on our lunch breaks together.)
- Most importantly perhaps, she is so pitiless that I have a suspicion she would have had a promising career as a jail warden back when the death sentence was still in full force. A few hours ago, she had two boyfriends. Now, I am sad to report, she only has one left. She had sent the wrong message to the wrong guy, and, as expected, the guy promptly accused her of adultery. Also as expected, Heidelberg broke up with the unfortunate guy right then and there, faster than Miriam Defensor Santiago herself could say “I lied.”
Once she broke a friend’s heart—the affair lasted for two very long weeks, I think. My friend feels like shit until now, but I have remained neutral on the issue, no more because I had my own wounds to lick at the time than because I believe love is always a bloody risk.
Even now, I don’t think I take everything against Die Heidelberg. She is after all pretty, and she must take advantage of the perks that come with her beauty while it lasts. Some people are gifted with the ability to name the first one thousand prime numbers, some with the ability to buy one thousand private yachts. She, on the other hand, by some fluke of chance, won in the genetic lottery. What do you do with good looks other than ensnaring one thousand unknowing victims? Most, but not all, attractive people are like carnivorous plants. Genus Dionaea, species muscipula.
Hell, for all I know, even after finishing this ramble of a post, I might eat my own words later when I see her again at the office. All it might take is a playful poke in my ribs and a hug and a perfunctory kiss at the cheek, and I might be back inside the Venus fly-trap. Charming girl, my Heidelberg.