Monkey Business

layla’s library libido

Wednesday, March 3, 10:45 a.m.

“Our initial product rollout for the women’s condom will target areas that fall within the triangular shape formed by Boston, Miami and Chicago,” Jamie says, as the PowerPoint slide behind him illuminates a gigantic triangle. “A strategy we refer to as the golden triangle.”

Everyone in the class snickers. He is too much. I can’t stop laughing. How can someone make a Marketing presentation so funny? I’m not the only person howling, either. It feels like Comedy Central in here. And the place is packed. I bet everyone came just to hear him present. I wonder if he’s ever thought about show business.

“People,” he says, “get your mind out of the gutter. The product packaging is gold.”

I feel a pang of jealousy when all five in his work group start laughing. I wish I were in that group. My group did a presentation on the soda industry, and they’ve been doing condoms every night. Where’s the justice?

When the group finishes, they hand out freebies. Cool. It’s like getting a loot bag after a party, except with this stuff in hand, the party comes later. Hopefully I’ll be able to use this over spring break when we finally have sex.

At the end of the day, I stop at the Internet terminals to check my e-mail. One from Brad, asking me if I want to see the Broadway play Avenue Q during March break. He’s gotten really into e-mails and phone calls lately. Almost obsessively. It’s almost suffocating. Oh, well. At least he’s booked my break with dinner reservations and concerts. And he’s taking off two days so we can spend some time during the day together.

Library time. I knock on Jamie’s door to collect him. No answer. Oh, well. I trudge through the snow on my own.

I find him at our regular spot on the fourth floor. “I’m so happy you’re here,” I say, sitting on the chair next to his.

“I’m happy you’re here,” he says. “It’s time for a walk.”

“But I just arrived!”

“All the more reason to take a break. Hey, Jason,” he says to the guy sitting at the table. “Will you watch our laptops?” He extends his arm to me, and we stroll through the library, waving to the people we know. His short arm hairs tickle my skin. We’re both cold and goose-bumpy. In the hallway in front of the elevator he performs a yogalike stretch. “I think I’ve lost all feeling in my toes,” he says.

“How long have you been here?”

“Since three-thirty.”

I look at my watch. “It’s only three-forty five.”

“Exactly.”

“How’s the job search going?”

“I thought this was our break?”

“Sorry, Jamie. I was just wondering what your story was.”

“Avoidance.”

I remember my earlier observation. “Have you thought about going into show business?”

“Yeah, why? You think I could be a star?”

“I was thinking you’d like to work for a film company. I have a friend in the city who works for Miramax. I’m sure he’d be happy to talk to you.”

“That would be amazing.” He faces me and puts both hands on my shoulders. “You’re always looking out for me, huh?”

“Always,” I answer. “Let’s get back to work.”

“What do you say we work for forty minutes and then do a massage train?”

Who knew my Alpha Phi massage train would be a hit at B-school? “It’s not a massage train with only two of us. It’s just a massage.” He looks forlorn, so I decide to compromise. “Fine. But first I work for an hour.”

“Half an hour,” he negotiates.

“Forty minutes,” I say. I set my watch and return to my work.

Forty minutes later, my alarm goes off. I stop it before the librarian boots us out for disturbing the peace. “Me first,” I whisper. He stands up behind me, rolls his sleeves, and begins massaging my neck. Tighter…oooh…ahh…It’s sooo good. I feel sooo relaxed. I feel sooo good.

I feel sooo…aroused?

I probably shouldn’t be feeling aroused at the library. I probably shouldn’t be feeling aroused by a man who’s not my boyfriend.