It's like Bridget Jones' Diary, but with a super-powered vigilante.

September 07, 2004

Margo Report

Margo is wearing a dark pinstripe pantsuit with pointy-toed shoes, and is wearing more make-up than I usually see her in. Her hair is pulled back. Must be a meeting. I pass her going the opposite way in a hallway – she’s holding a cup of coffee, talking to somebody, some bald guy. I nod and smile. She gives me a little smile and a swat with her free hand and keeps talking to the bald guy. It's like we're buddies now.

We're leaving tomorrow for Turbine City - Margo, Keith, Loretta, and me. Big presentation for InterBionics on Thursday. I was up last night laying out clothes on the bed, trying to pick out the right outfits. I'll wear my blue Egyptian cotton shirt and my dope black fleur-de-lis tie for the presentation, maybe a black sweater and jeans for the flight with my Docs. Wait, maybe not. Maybe just a black tee and jeans. Too casual? Shit, what if Margo sits next to me? I mean, that would be great, but what am I going to talk about? It's a two hour flight to TB, plenty of time for her to learn what a boring asswipe I really am. God, I am neurotic.

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