Tam’s, Destroyer of Sex Gods, Blog: Entry 5
You’re probably wondering why I started this story with Entry 5.Well the previous entries were all rubbish about my first few days at college about four or five years ago.But I decided that since I made this blog, it was about time to get some use out of it. Plus, it would have at least been Entry 6, but I deleted a previous entry for reasons I’ll explain eventually.
Starting with how I both loved and destroyed a Sex God.
I didn’t ask to fall in love with a Sex God.
I’m not sure that’s one of those things that people earnestly ask for is it?
‘Yes, for Christmas I would like one Sex God please.Thank you.If you could just fit him under my tree, that would be great.No, no bow required.’
I didn’t ask for it, but according to my mother, I should have.Most of our family time consisted of something like this: “So Pemberley, when are you going to get yourself married?You know, I know a nice young man down at the corner market.He’s willing to take you out for-“
She wonders why I don’t come home very often.That, and the several thousand-mile journey.
But before she can finish what is sure to be a doomed night out with some complete loser from down the road, I usually start humming to myself.It’s bad enough that she gave me a first name I have no use for.Pemberley?It’s not cute no matter how you try to make it so.Everyone else I know has a trendy sort of name like… well I can’t think of one right off the bat, but give me some time.
When I was in school I used to allow myself to be called by Pemberley, but once I grew up I began insisting upon the name my father gave me: Tamsin, Tam for short.Sometimes even Tammy if I’m feeling chummy.
But back to my mother.I’m not even that old.Twenty-four is not old.I’m able to pub crawl internationally now.
What better way than to escape to L.A. for school?Four glorious years later and few visits to the folks back home, I have a nearly useless degree in some obscure branch of English Literature.The economy was different back then.
Fortunately, the public library in my neighborhood took pity upon me, so I had a full-time job as a desk clerk while I tried to make up my mind about furthering my education or packing it all in and heading home.
Home.A place I try my hardest to avoid since my father walked out on us when I graduated high school.By us, I mean my mother, my two older brothers, my two younger sisters, and myself.Married for 30 years and the man decides that he can’t stand my mother anymore, at least in the legalese sense.
Hate to say it, but I can’t blame him.If my mother ever got a hold of this journal, she would probably hate me.As mean as it will probably sound, I wondered why he didn’t walk out on her 30 years ago.Of course, I know I wouldn’t be here to wonder.
I even asked him when I went home one split Christmas to see him.He just told me “Tam, your mother was a different person back then.”Well that’s hard to believe, but I’ll take his word for it.He’s a professor after all. He should know what he’s talking about.
Out of everyone in my family, my father is probably the only one I get along with the best.Dad and I are a lot alike.We both can’t stand my mother meddling in our affairs and we both love our independence.
This is why I told dad about the SG first and why mom had to find out from one of my sisters.
But I know you’re not here to find out about my family, unless you’re a creepy stalker, and then I would be calling the cops instead of typing everything down for clarity.
What will probably be hitting the papers and blogs soon enough is only a perverted version of the truth.I’m hoping this works, though my life isn’t a movie (if it was, it would probably be more like The Craft than Clueless), and things in real life never seem to work out like they do at the theaters.
In fact, the person that I most want to read this is probably staying far away from the internet.But I still hope that he does happen to see it.Because I’m not just writing it for the fallout that is going to occur about five seconds after I hit the ‘Publish’ button, but because I want someone who was hurt by me to know the truth, what really happened.My side of the story.The only side that should matter.
If you’re actually reading this Bri, I want to apologize to you.You’re the person I hurt the most and you didn’t deserve that. In fact, I understand if you never want to see me again.
For anyone else who signed on and started reading: It started like this…
++++
Pemberley “Tam” Maitland was ready to bang her head on the desk to keep her heavy eyes from drifting closed every few seconds.It was the middle of the summer, the middle of the day, and the middle of summer reading at the library.
Everything that she could have done that would have allowed her freedom from the desk had been completed hours before, so now it was more just a waiting game to see whether she or the clock would die first.
If she had been a betting woman, she would have put $200 down on the clock staying alive and her passing on.Instead, she was twirling a pen between her slim fingers, watching the front doors for signs of life, and desperately wishing she were at home in her cramped apartment.
Today was a strange day.Usually patrons were in and out, either checking out materials or using the internet on the computers.But today, very few people had come to the desk to ask her anything.
There was a new novel she had hoped to finish reading sitting in her cubby, which she wished she could get and prop up with.But that would have been considered rude.
So instead she was trying to create her own amusement, which had so far proved fruitless.At least there was air conditioning.The one in her apartment was on its last leg and she had been trying to make do with cheap fans from a dollar store in the nearby strip mall.
If it got any hotter in her apartment, she was sure that she would have to start sleeping naked.She shivered, as she didn’t feel quite that comfortable like some of the people in the surrounding buildings. Why couldn’t the young, hot starting model in the apartment across the street walk around in the buff instead of the elder man in the apartment below him?Tam was trying to floss the image from her mind when one of the front doors finally moved, allowing a quick blush of hot air into the building, accompanied by a young man.
Tam brought her lazy spine to attention as she greeted the newcomer with a warm smile and a brief “Welcome to the Library!Let me know if I can assist you.”The stranger took off his shades and nodded at her, as he approached the desk.
Tam desperately hoped that she didn’t look too despondent for signs of human company. She had started to wonder if some sort of apocalypse had occurred outside without her knowing, but instead business appeared to be continuing as normal beyond the library walls.
She didn’t want to seem like she was staring or that there was something horribly wrong with her, as she tried to drink in his features while he leisurely ventured up to the counter, taking his time to look around.
In the snug black t-shirt he was wearing, she could clearly make out the exceptional detail of his numerous arm tattoos.She was a sucker for good inking, having had a roommate who had been apprenticed at a tattoo parlor and was always experimenting.In the sunlight, his moderate jewelry caught her eye, drawing attention to his well-formed hands.Hands she could imagine as elegant at even the most menial of tasks.
Remembering her customer service training, Tam willed her eyes back to his face, searching for eye contact with him to establish a rapport and to let him know that his presence was valued as a potential patron.
Her breath unfortunately caught in her throat as she felt his amber gaze on her own ordinary features.He ran a hand through his shaggy, dark hair calling attention to shapely eyebrows and lips highlighted by fair skin.A slender nose ring graced the left nostril.
It was a few seconds before she realized he was actually addressing her.Tam knew that her pastel skin was flushing with splotchy color.She hated her blush.It wasn’t cute or confined to a small part of her cheeks.It seemed to spread all over her face like some sort of awkward banner.
“I’m sorry, my mind must have wandered away for a second,” she told him, feeling shyer by the second, “can you repeat that for me?”
He shrugged slightly before answering, “No problem.Do you mind if I just hang out in here while a tow truck comes for my car?”
“That’s fine; I know it’s a scorcher outside.”Her voice, lower than the “Valley Girl” standard for a woman, was growing higher by the moment the longer she spoke to the out of the ordinary stranger.She felt deeply unprofessional.
He nodded sympathetically.While she still had his undivided attention, she elaborated before she could stop herself.“You could probably fry an egg on the sidewalk or a bald man’s head.”He stared at her for a second and she wondered if she had offended him, her stomach cramping tightly.But instead, he smiled and she could make out just a small chuckle before he agreed with her.
It wasn’t often that men like him walked into the library.Tam had a personal record going for the number of men she had made herself look like a fool in front of while working at the library.She always seemed to mess up somehow.
Like once, she had nearly run a patron over with a cart of books.It was an accident; she hadn’t seen him in the stacks until it was almost too late.When she wasn’t nearly causing bodily harm to random, good-looking strangers, she was babbling on and on like a mad brook.
Her tongue, solidly determined to continue a conversation, launched into an explanation of how she was much used to colder weather where she came from.Her would-be boyfriend would be insanely jealous of the attention a stranger garnered from her.
“So you’re not from here?” he asked, his voice softer than she would have originally thought.He seemed genuinely interested.Tam studied his relaxed body language; he was leaned against the counter, attention fully on her.She tried not to gulp.
“No, not originally.”She wished sometimes she was a native, especially when she went home for holidays to her scattered divorcee mother.“I’m actually from Salem, Massachusetts.”The stranger nodded along thoughtfully.“Witch City.”
“Are you a witch?”Her heart thumped extra loud for a second; loud enough she thought he might have heard.But she wasn’t sure why.A joke, it was a joke.
She laughed, hoping she wasn’t sweating, “Only if it starts with a B.”A joke for a joke.
“You’re one of ‘those’ girls huh?”There was a shine in his eyes; he was still bantering back and forth with her. He hadn’t run away yet.
“Of course,” she winked.Actually, she was probably the furthest thing from.She couldn’t even put ‘Badass’ in the same sentence when talking about herself.
“I see,” he nodded.There was a pause that Tam hoped wouldn’t turn into an awkward silence, where he would wander away and leave her perched on her island of circulation desk isolation.He glanced at one of the bookmarks advertising summer reading.“So I’m probably too old to sign up for this right?” he asked, pointing to the colorful promotion.
“No way,” she scoffed, “you can never be too old for anything.”Where her brain said ‘stop,’ her tongue said ‘go.’“Just between you and me,” a secret shared with a stranger, “I still sometimes curl up with a book from my childhood.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” he confirmed.He seemed amused by their conversation.Another pause.“You seem about a million years too young to be working here,” he told her.Tam was used to that.People always seemed to be asking her did she actually work there.She threatened to get it tattooed on her forehead that yes, she did work there.
It was probably because she was so short.At five foot even, Tam was often mistaken for one of the teenagers when they had their programs.Tam never perceived herself as that young, not probably since she had been that young, and so it always seemed to come off as a bit of a shock.
“Well, I’m actually over 100, I just age slowly.”The corners of her mouth turned upward in a broad grin.He seemed to like her joke about as well as the kids, earning a smile and a low chuckle from him.“Actually, believe it or not, I’m only twenty-three as of a few months ago.”She really hated her birthday and often selectively forgot it.
“Only twenty-three?”Before he could add anything to that, she elaborated for him.
“Yeah, I get that a lot.Sometimes my supervisor counts me as one of the kids.”
“Yeah, I know someone like that.”
“Someone who counts someone else as kid?Or someone that gets the mistaken age business?”
“Someone who acts like a kid but is always mistaken for an adult.”
“Oh, vice-versa.”She nodded keenly.“If only I were so lucky.”
“Well if it’s any consolation, I think you look your age.”She pretended to be upset, scoffing and laughing the entire time.“I meant that in the nicest way possible,” he amended, playing along.“I’ll make it up to you.Guess how old I am.”Tam wasn’t actually sure she could.
“Oh I don’t know, I would say…”What would she say?Her age perception was all skewed because she seemed younger on the outside than she was inside.“Early to mid twenties?”
“Close, very close.How about thirty?”
“You are not thirty!”She laughed as he nodded.“No way!”He nodded his confirmation, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
“Close though.” Tam laughed again, glad for this interruption to save her from an afternoon filled with boredom.
“I’ll take close enough,” Tam said.She offered her hand across the desk.“I’m Tamsin,” she told him, “Tam for short.”There was no reason to scare him away with her first name.
“Brian,” he said, taking her hand briefly.“Bri, for short.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“You too.”The front doors stirred again and a man swathed in a greasy repair shop uniform stepped inside.
“I’m looking for… Haner?” he asked in a gruff voice.
“That’s me,” Brian said.The man stepped back outside, a signal that Brian would be leaving in just a few seconds.Tam felt her heart dropping, but kept the smile firmly plastered on her face.“It was nice meeting you Tam,” he said, using her preferred name.
“You too Bri.”She hoped her voice hadn’t cracked at the end.Tam knew that her chances of ever actually seeing him again were slim to none.He started for the door and paused just before he pressed the handle.She hoped it was because he would turn and ask her something more, but instead it was to retrieve his phone from his front pocket as he began punching in a number.
Tam was left alone again at the desk, feeling a little emptier than before.She shouldn’t have, as he was a total stranger.She met total strangers everyday and never seemed bothered when they left.Why was this man any different?
And just why was she even considering him?She had a boyfriend, sort of.Rather, he wanted to be her boyfriend and she was too polite to tell him they were not actually dating.
At the end of the day, as she rode her dilapidated motorcycle home,Tam found she still didn’t have a satisfactory answer to her question.She pondered as she absently cooked a small box of Pad Thai for herself, as she chowed down while mindlessly channel surfing, and even during her shower just before bed.She didn’t bother with calling her sham boyfriend.He would probably text her sometime during the night anyway.
It wasn’t until she was resting on top of her sheets that Tam even felt the oppressing heat in her apartment.As she sweated into the worn floral print of her bed covering, Tam knew that she felt drawn to the beautiful stranger.She just couldn’t put her finger on why exactly.There was just something about him, as cliché as that sounded.
But people like that, they just didn’t associate with people like her.At least, not ‘her’ in her current state.She would need one of those drastic makeovers or something.Finally conquering the battle over her fidgety mind, Tam dropped off into a light and restless sleep.

Notes

Florence and The Machine own the story title.