CHEAP PEOPLE or great moments in rolling over in bed and it's snowing; you imagine if you could afford to still go to therapy with the same therapist who gave you analysis

I have quit the latest in secretarial jobs.

I'm writing a play, I like it, about a woman who quits her latest in secretarial jobs but in a more dangerous set of circumstances.

Anyway, when I worked there, oh- there is an Investment Bank, eventually my desk was moved to be beside this British man with an extremely wide ass and a very posh accent... 's office.

This poor man wanted to be cool.  I took him drinking with myself (duh) and myfriendS (who crashed the holiday party) after the holiday party.  He bragged (pitifully) that the Junior Associates liked the novelty (as if) of his drinking.  He bummed one of my cigarettes - he told me way too much about infertility treatments with his wife.  He wanted to be told he was different from the other bankers which I obliged.  I know how to act at corporate after party drinks.  I know a lot of things.  And I don't think I can get as drunk as a banker.  I am a writer! Through and through!

At any rate, we said we'd drink together more, and we did.  The last time was after he came by my desk on a Friday before the big winter snowstorm was expected to hit, saying "Well Alexis, is it beer o'clock?" 

MyfriendS thinks the Brit is great.  He loves the accent.  I think he's not so great and here's why: I think he should pay for everything we do, should ever we do anything, 100% of the time, 100% on him no question about it.  He's a "Director" at the bank. I am a temporary secretary.

I spent months at this bank I worked for with no benefits at all on an hourly basis gunning to have my hourly rate moved from $23.00 to $25.50 (before taxes), and then unsuccessfully spent months gunning to be hired as a permanent employee.

So going out for a drink with this Brit can cost me, easily, my whole day of pay.  If I take a taxi home to Jersey City because I'm tired and drunk and can't stand to wait for and experience the PATH train - easily.

I'd say easily the whole day's pay after taxes- just to pay for drinking, eating, and getting home.

He is practically suicidal.  I see that.  I am a perceptive woman after all.  His teacher wife is asleep. He wants to drink with exciting me and exciting S.  Poor artists are a lot more fun? Well, no kidding.

Man up and pay for everything.

Maybe it will even help with the misery.

That's what I say.

So the last time we went for a drink before this blizzard was to land, I said 'sure!' - I had nothing to do but maybe try to get groceries on this Friday night.  And he awaited a text from his wife or this visiting acquaintance to let him know he needed to leave and get back to Brooklyn.

He paid for somewhat more than what he had.  I paid for somewhat less than what I had. 

He left eventually, concerned to have heard from neither acquaintance nor wife.

I said "go- go - it's fine.  Go ahead. See you Monday".

The waiter said to me, as I gave him my credit card to pay what was uncovered by the Brit's cash, "he left you here?"

I said "Well- He's a work acquaintance- and a married man also".

Still, said the waiter, "I would never do that.  I would never leave you."

Now I would say to my therapist, "What do you think?  Do you agree with the waiter that he shouldn't have left?  Do you agree with me that he should have paid the whole tab?  If you were me, would you like him, as a friend, any longer - I did pay less than I owed if it's all even Stevens.  But do you agree it's somehow repellant- for me to pay at all?"

She would wonder why I'd care what she thinks.

I don't really NEED to go back tbecause I'm onto the analysis answers pretty well. :-)  But I would love to go back because it's very bonding to have someone listen to you THAT MUCH.

Lots of love,
Alexis