What the coffee cup heard

[three weeks ago; office pantry]

Partner A: (passing by the pantry door) And what do we say tonight, Susan?

Me: Ah. We say goodnight, A. *beams madly*

Partner A: Susan. Take a cab. It’s late. The firm will pay for it.

Me: Ah. Ah..ah. But it’s not that late…ahm..it’ll be fine!! It’ll be fine…no worries! *hurriedly tries to look preoccupied, hoping A will have somewhere important to be and have lots of large, important matters on his mind*

Partner A stands in doorway, clearly not going anywhere. Oh crap.

Me: Anyway I don’t have much cash on me, really, so it’s fine, it’s fine, I’ll catch a train.

Fifty dollars in the palm of my hand before I can figure out how to bolt without seeming rude.

Me: No no no NO nooooo…I’ll Eftpos, it’s fine, it’s fine…go, go, I’ll be fiiinneeeeee…

Partner A: *eyes narrowed* I’ll…just give you a ride to the taxi stand.

Crap.

Me: (now in car, and obviously bugged by said coffee cup) You know, A, I get carsick a lot..that’s why I don’t like taking cabs.

Partner A: Well you should’ve said something earlier. You’re taking a cab tonight.

*mentally yanks on hair*

Me: I’m not really used to taking cabs…I don’t know if I’d even manage to hail one. And oh, look, the train station’s right next to us!

Partner A parks by the side of the road and gets out of the car, hails a taxi

Partner A: (to me) You go in the back, and shut the door. (to taxi driver) Take this girl to Carlton. (to me) *glares*

Me: *humbly* Thanks, A.

Partner A: See you tomorrow. *shuts door*

So. In the space of 20 minutes I have managed to look like a) a tight-arse, b) one on the brink of destitution, c) someone with yet another complex (because I don’t seem neurotic enough as it is), and d) an idiot.

All this, of course, could be so easily explained if I could just admit that it’s all very simple, really; I really, really, hate being told what to do.