this is not a love story

7/29/2019 This is Not a Love Story

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This is not a love story. This is just the tale of a guy named Jim, and the interesting things that

happened to him over the course of a couple years. Don’t worry, I’ll only mention the interesting parts, I

don’t have the attention span to document years of a person’s life, especially not the boring parts of

those years. I’ll take it on faith that you assume other things happen during the gaps in writing, Jim has

shit to do, he won’t just sit around and wait to be written about, he’s got a job, and friends, and an

addiction to B horror films. So now that the stage is set, I can begin chronicling what is most definitely

not a love story.

Like most great stories, this one begins with a girl. I promise, still not a love story. But, in a man’s

life a woman is generally the greatest motivating factor. Jim Dillinger was an average guy; he worked a

boring desk job at a soulless corporation, his degree was in business, but he hardly ever did any real

business, he had a dog and an apartment, and he drank beer while watching sports. He wasn’t

particularly great at his job, but he wasn’t terrible. Jim made enough to pay the bills and that was

basically it.

Jim was fine with that life, until Nancy came along and fucked up the status quo. Nancy was not

an average girl. She was tall, beautiful in that cute way (like Alison Brie, hint hint Hollywood), and she

loved adventure. Nancy was a field correspondent for CNN, she spent a majority of time in natural

disasters and warzones. She loved every minute of it. Jim met Nancy at the sporting goods store, when

he was purchasing a new pair of running shoes and she was looking at camping equipment for a job

where she would be staying in the woods to report on a fire or something. Jim casually mentioned that

he had been a camera man, he hadn’t. He was trying to impress her, it didn’t work. What the lie did

accomplish was her asking him if he would be her camera guy, since her current one wouldn’t stop

hitting on her. Jim explained to her that he had a girlfriend, he did not have a girlfriend. Nancy was

excited, because apparently not many people want to man the camera during life threatening scenarios.

So here Jim is, two weeks later, first day on the job after lying through his teeth to get here. He

had done his research, working a camera didn’t seem too difficult, in comparison to some of his past

jobs it was a piece of cake. He was horribly ashamed of all of this, a 33 year old man who lied to get a job

with a girl he liked. But, honestly this job paid better than his old one and they paid for dental, not that

he had messed up teeth but what if they did get messed up? He was going to do his best to keep this

job, better than being an Account Manager at Tricorp.

Jim sat down at his new cubicle, he couldn’t be sure but he thought it was bigger than his

previous one. His boss, Bradley Garret, a short and squat man stammered a welcome out to him.

“Welcome to CNN, y-y-y-y-your f-f-f-f-f-f-first as-s-signment starts Wednesday. I h-h-h-hope you enjoy

your t-t-t-t-t-time with us.” Bradley smiled an awkward smile, and then sort of shuffled away,

accidentally knocking over a picture Jim had brought with him. The picture fell to the ground, so Jim

reached down to pick it up. His hand came into contact with another hand, much softer and more dainty

than his own.

Nancy smiled at him as his eyes looked up to meet hers. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” Jim

rushed out as he pulled his hand away. His cheeks burned and he began to sweat profusely.



“No problem, let me get that for you.” She picked up the picture and looked at it quizzically. The

picture was of Jim and two other men, in Army uniforms. “I didn’t know you served, what did you do in

the Army?”

“Oh, I was just a grunt. I figured I’d bring that since we do a lot of field work with the military, at

least that’s what Bradley said.” Jim didn’t like talking about his time in the Army; people always hadawkward questions with complicated answers.

“What unit did you deploy with? I was imbedded with 3rd ID in Iraq and the 75th Ranger

Regiment in Afghanistan. Maybe we know some of the same people?” She looked excited at their

shared history. Somehow he didn’t feel like this was one of those awkward conversations with a civilian,

she’d been there, she knew. Still, he didn’t really feel like talking about it.

“I deployed a few times, with the 75th myself actually. Um, would you mind if we don’t really

continue on this subject, I kinda just want to get started here, if that’s cool.” Nancy placed the picture on

Jim’s desk. She looked a bit disappointed, but still smiled at him.

“Of course, sorry sometimes I get a bit caught up. Well, this next assignment should be like a

blast from the past for you, we’re going to Nicaragua to report on the war, we’re going to be with 1st

Battalion, 75th Rangers. Maybe you’ll see some old friends.” Jim really hoped he didn’t, if he met any old

friends it would mean more explaining, and that Nicaragua was in worse shape than he thought. He

didn’t keep much contact with his Army buddies, a Facebook message here or there, the odd phone call

on anniversaries of certain deaths, mostly they all kept to themselves. Better not to dredge up the past.

He smiled back at her “Yes, maybe I will. But I’ve been out almost five years; most of my buddies

aren’t even in anymore.” That was mostly true, really about 50/50. But the ones who were still active he

had no way of contacting, at least no easy way of contacting. “But I wasn’t with 1

st

Bat anyway; I doubtanyone I know is there now. In Regiment you tend to stay put.”

“Oh, you don’t look very old, how long were you in?” She smiled at him, was she complimenting

him? Was she trying to glean information about him? That’s definitely what it looked like to him, and he

was an expert at Intel gathering.

“I was in for about ten years. I joined right out of high school, got a degree while I was in. That

makes me thirty-three, you look you were doing the math in your head.” Jim laughed as he said that last

part, and sat down in his chair.

“Oh, wow, you don’t look thirty-three, you take care of yourself.” She touched her hair andlaughed a little. She was flirting with him. He was totally in.

Jim grinned “are you calling me old? I probably only have a few years on you.” She looked about

his age, so he was really hoping she wasn’t much younger than him. If she was he just blew his shot.

“Oh, I’m older than you actually.” Phew, dodged that bullet like fucking Neo. “I was just paying a

compliment to someone who ages as gracefully as me.” Nancy flipped her red hair as she spoke, and



started to twirl it in her fingers; definitely a good sign. He noticed her look him up and down, she was

checking him out. He was decently sure that he was physically attractive, slightly above average height,

and he was muscular enough that you could tell through his clothes. He was glad he had his sleeves

rolled up, exposing some of his tattoos. Jim was fairly certain that Nancy was the kind of woman who

found ink attractive.

“So, Nicaragua on Wednesday, how long will we be there?” He was hoping for a little while, the

one on one time would be great. Although, her immediate attraction to him after she found out about

his time in the military probably meant that she had a thing for soldiers, so hopefully around a week or

two.

“We’ll be there for two months, maybe a little more.” She said it so nonchalantly, as if she was

used to that. Maybe they did have a lot in common. Jim was not pleased with this however, if he wanted

to spend more time in a shitty country with shitty amenities he would have stayed in the Army. To be

fair, they would most likely be treated very kindly and with privilege.

“Okay, that’s fine. What do you recommend packing wise? Usually I was given a list for these

sorts of things, so I’m new to devising my own packing list.” That wasn’t particularly true, but it was

funny. Jim was afforded the luxury of bringing whatever gear he wanted when he deployed, something

most soldiers don’t even get to think about.

“Pack light, we’ll have food and access to laundry. Don’t bring anything you won’t need.” Jim

was seriously considering packing one change of clothes and a bag full of condoms. Those are hard to

come by down range.

“So, are we allowed to carry weapons? Because I’m not sure how safe I’d feel walking through

the Nicaraguan bush without a firearm of some kind.” Jim would carry a handgun either way, he alwaysdid, but it’d be nice to not have to hide it.

“No, absolutely not, as journalists we are neutral observers. We’ll be embedded with Rangers,

they’ll keep us safe should anything go wrong. When we aren’t with them we will be on a heavily

guarded forward operating base.” Nancy got very serious as she explained this. It seemed to be a touchy

subject to her. Jim would have to do some more prying later.

“Alright, fine. If someone shoots at me I guess I’ll just point my camera at him and hope he

recognizes my neutrality.” Jim immediately realized he should not have said that. Nancy didn’t exactly

glare at him, but she tensed up and gave him a very disconcerting look. No need for those condoms

now. Jim was certain he’d just effectively murdered her attraction to him.

“Well, I have a lot of preparation to do for the Nicaragua trip. I suggest you get your things

together as well. I’ll see you later.” Yup, she hated him. Now he would have to spend two months with a

woman who hated him, fucking super. He decided he was still going to bring his 1911. Wouldn’t be the

first time he’d smuggled a weapon on a flight, and with his new line of work he doubted it would be the

last.



Later that day Jim went to see his boss, Bradley. The timid little man was so hard to talk to. He

stuttered so much, it was remarkable that he somehow made it to the position of editor at CNN. It

unnerved Jim to think about the squat little man on camera. He could only imagine how bad his

stammering would get when Bradley was nervous. What on Earth possessed the little guy to even

pursue a career in journalism.

this is not a love story

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