January 6th, 2016

'J'en ai marre'  is French for 'I'm fed up.'

*~*~*

"Talk to me. I think I'm going insane."

"Isn't it slightly too late for that? You're already insane."

"I'm the good kind of insane but if I carry on doing this, I might actually go the bad kind of insane."

"Luckily for you, I've just wrapped up a meeting and I'm on my way back to the office but traffic is slow."

"You're talking on the phone while driving? Dude, that's dangerous."

"I have a chauffeur. Dude."

"Ok, hearing it back, the word 'dude' is really lame. As is the word 'lame'. Very 90s."

"The 90s were horrendous."

"It wasn't that bad. We had Backstreet Boys, Spice Girls and Tamagotchi. I think the 80s were worse. They had Spandau Ballet. The horror."

"True. Now, what's making you go the bad kind of insane?"

"I can't tell you if you're driving. I don't want to be the one responsible for you crashing into someone."

"I have a driver so we're safe."

"You have a driver?"

"I do."

"I shouldn't be surprised really but I kind of am. - I am working. I'm doing some market research. Look. - So, Daniel, would you buy a fifteen hundred pound Tom Ford coat?"

"No."

"And why is that?"

"Because I have a twenty nine hundred pound Kilgour coat instead."

"..."

"Sophie?"

"You spent how much on a coat?! - Oh, go away, Rachel! - Apparently, I'm not allowed to talk to you think that."

"Little does Rachel know how you really talk to me."

"Right?"

"I thought you were a writer."

"I am."

"Why are you pretending to do market research then?"

"Because Rachel, my assistant, is annoying and thinks I'm procrastinating."

"Please tell me that she wasn't in your office when you just called her annoying."

"No, she's gone. But it's not like I haven't said worse to her face before."

"That's mean."

"We work in fashion. It's cut throat and if you meet someone nice then they're either new to the industry or they're on something."

"That explains you then. You're sarcastic and borderline mean because of your job."

"No, that's just me. I found a job that fit my personality, rather than developed a personality that fit my job."

"Smart girl."

"I know."

"Modest, too, it seems."

"Absolutely. Can you think of another way to describe a pair of shoes other than to say that they're cute?"

"Why would anyone describe shoes as 'cute'? Kittens and puppies are cute, shoes are practical."

"Haha, you're a big softie really, aren't you? Talking about cute kittens and puppies! I'll bet that you like bunny rabbits, too."

"No."

"Spoil sport. Urgh, work is boring."

"Writing about cute shoes is boring? Never!"

"The girl who is supposed to be doing this article is off sick, but in actuality she's just monumentally hungover after her birthday celebrations last night. Guess who got her amazing job for the day?"

"You."

"Correct. This is not the bullshit I signed up for."

"Language, Sophie."

"J'en ai marre."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant."

"If market research and writing about shoes isn't your day to day work, what is?"

"Writing about clothes, generally."

"You went to Oxford to read English and you write about clothes?"

"You sound disgusted."

"Just a little."

"I'll pretend not to be insulted by that comment. Trust me, it wasn't like I planned on this career. It just happened."

"Nothing 'just happens.'"

"It does when you were the one writing a fashion blog and running the website for a major designer, only to then be headhunted for a job at Vogue."

"You were headhunted?"

"Yep. They liked what I was doing and decided that I was the exact type of person they wanted on their staff."

"How did you get your start?"

"Well, you know the major designer I was talking about? She's my mum."

"Nepotism."

"Slave labour, actually. I didn't want to keep her blog and website and write all her speeches and show guides and all the rest, I had to."

"But it led you to Vogue."

"Indeed, and I've never looked back. I get to travel the world, work with talented designers and nurture new talent. People laugh when I say that I work in the fashion industry, but it's one of the best jobs in the world."

"One of the best jobs that you were complaining about less than five minutes ago."

"I wasn't complaining."

"You were."

"..."

"Have you finished writing about the shoes now?"

"Yes. I'm still going to describe them as 'cute' though."

"Why?"

"Because it's not my name on the article. Everyone's going to see Gretchen's name on it instead and she's going to hate the word 'cute.' Call it pay back for making me cover for her."

"Sadist."

"Haha, so true. Are you back at your office yet?"

"Just pulled up outside."

"So, what exactly do you do? You've never said."

"I'm a lawyer."

"A lawyer?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive."

"Ok."

"What's wrong with being a lawyer?"

"Nothing! My soon-to-be brother-in-law is a lawyer."

"Then what was you tone for?"

"What tone?"

"The tone where you sounded sceptical of my profession."

"I wasn't sceptical of your profession, I just didn't picture you as a lawyer, that's all."

"What did you picture me as?"

"Honestly? A banker of some sort. A financial whiz kid, perhaps. Or some sort of heir to a huge business of some sort. Or an aristocrat with a title and a castle."

"Sorry to burst your bubble but I'm a lawyer."

"Well, it's better than being an accountant."

"Don't be mean about accountants. Everyone needs one."

"But they have no personality."

"Stereotyping."

"Based on the ones we have in our finance department, it's a fact not a stereotype."

"- Thank you, Evelyn. - Sophie? I'm really sorry but I have to go. I'm stepping into a meeting with a client."

"Oh, right. I've kept you long enough, anyway."

"No you haven't. We'll speak tomorrow, ok? Bye, Sophie."

"Bye, Daniel."