"But how much of it is natural, do you think?" he wanted to know. "I mean scenery, yeah sure, but people can get really fake in front of a camera."
"Sure," I offered. "But some people just get more genuine. I've done shoots for magazines and websites where people just want to show off something they're proud of. Makeup or something they've cooked. Flowers they've arranged. They primp it up to look better, but that's just because they want to present their best to the world. Some people are so nervous to be in front of a camera, and some people have the fakest smiles, but usually if you give it a bit, they relax, and this sort of... genuine joy starts to shine through. And I get to see all of that. I don't know, I think there's a kind of magic in it. That probably sounds stupid."
"Nah," he said. "It sounds pretty cool, actually. Like you get this whole other view the rest of us don't get to see."
I grinned at him, lighting up as we walked along. "Exactly! That's exactly it. It's hard to explain to people who haven't seen it or who don't like pictures in general, but that's one of the reasons why I like it so much." I realized then that I had been talking about myself for way too long. I had the tendency to go off on tangents when I was excited about something, and finding someone who seemed to understand where I was coming from with my love of my work was very exciting.
But it didn't make for a good conversation, so I reined myself in with a little smile. "What about you?" I asked. "Tell me something thrilling about public accounting."
He snorted, pushing his hands into his pockets. "There is nothing thrilling about public accounting. Unless you're really horny for numbers or spreadsheets."
The way he said it made me laugh. "So why do it, then?"
He shrugged. "Needed a job. There wasn't a lot I wanted to do when I was a kid. My dad's a construction worker. It was basically the only thing he knew how to do, so he just made it a career, but it never paid that much. I figured I could at least go for something that paid well."
"Oh," I murmured. "Well, that makes sense. Money is important."
"Yeah. And at the end of the day, I can come home and buy shit to make whatever happened at work bother me less. It's a win-win."
It didn't sound like a win-win, but I wasn't about to start lecturing him about the joys of actually loving what you did for a living.
We walked for a bit longer, talking about shows we liked and movies we'd seen. As it turned out, we didn't have a lot in common. None of the things on my list were things he was interested in, but at least he didn't make fun of me for talking about artsy movies and being too into cooking competition reality shows.
When we were finally ready to head back, he walked me up the stairs to my room before saying goodnight and heading off to his own.
He was nice. Nicer than I had expected from someone who worked in accounting and probably made more money in a month than I saw in three.
Dan was always complaining about the culture of the office and how some people were just so up themselves about things that didn't even matter, but Jason didn't seem to be like that.
He was funny and charming, and had actually listened to me when I talked, which was such a low bar, but still important.
It was usually red flag number one for me.
I was infamous for my bad taste in men. Or at least for being terrible at reading people. Men always started out nice and then a few dates in, they started to show their true colors, turning into manipulative man-children with anger issues and the occasional outstanding warrant.
It had gotten to the point where I was considering swearing off dating altogether just because I was tired of repeating the same routines over and over again.
I just wanted to find someone who understood me and wasn't a complete asshole, but it seemed like an impossible goal sometimes.
