If you ask Jim about when we first met, he’ll tell you this romantic story about when he walked into the office that first morning, he laid eyes on the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. I find that amusing since by that time, I had already mastered the look of frumpy secretary. He’ll continue on, then, and tell you that by the time I walked him to his desk, he knew he liked me. After lunch, he knew he loved me. And by the end of the day, he knew I was the one. It sounds exaggerated, I know, especially when he tells reporters and the story comes off as a monologue from a cheesy romantic comedy. But the story he’s told me, the version that only I know, not a detail has ever wavered and, well, I can say that I believe Jim knew we were meant to be together from the very beginning.
I, however, have a different version of the story since, at the time, I had thought I already had found the one. Roy and I weren’t engaged at that point but we were living together and I had become so settled in my relationship with him that it never occurred to me that someone else could be the one. When I first heard that Dunder-Mifflin had hired a new salesman, I was prepared to welcome in another Dwight or Stanley. I didn’t think it would be this fresh out of college, eager, energetic guy my own age. And I definitely didn’t think, when Jim walked into the office that day, with more optimism then you ever got to see in the documentary, that that guy would be the one that I spent the rest of my life with.
He was cute. That’s what I first thought of Jim Halpert when he walked in with his Jim Carrey Cable Guy haircut, suit that was too big, mismatched tie, and wide, goofy grin. And I remember wondering, as he shook my hand and introduced himself, when I stopped noticing cute guys. Jim always tells me, when I recount my story, that I was meant to start noticing again.
The only way I remember our first exchange was because Jim can recount it word for word. My memory is sketchy so I have to take his word on it. What I remember was the way he looked at me, directly at me. He noticed me. Really noticed me. Noticed that there was this girl, and her name was Pam, and that she was a person. I was so used to playing the roll of secretary or girlfriend or daughter or coworker that there was a part of me that had forgotten how to just be Pam. Meeting Jim reminded me.
--
“Enjoy this moment, because you’re never going to go back to this time before you met your desk mate, Dwight.”
Jim’s eyes were filled with intrigue and wonder when I took him to his desk. He was supposed to be at an empty desk near Creed, Michael wanting to keep Miles’ old desk open in case Todd Packer ever wanted to return from the road. But Jim was too cute to be sitting that far away, so I changed it, and subsequently, became the one responsible for originally subjecting Jim to Dwight.
I noticed how Jim watched Dwight with great interest as we approached. Dwight had an array of four flower pots on his desk, a variety of bottles, and had his face close to the pot nearest him as he delicately used an eyedropper to place some unknown red liquid into the soil. Jim glanced back at me, incredulous and I gave him a shrug, as if to suggest that I had no idea what Dwight was up to. I didn’t know but I remained the calm observer, secretly amused as to how this would play out. I took delight in anyone meeting Dwight for the first time.
“Hi, I’m Jim Halpert,” Jim said, holding out his hand. The messenger bag that had rested on his shoulder slipped a little and he bounced it up again.
Dwight made no movement, his eyes remained fixed on what he was doing. “I’m busy,” he replied shortly.
Jim, again, turned to me, an unsure look on his face as his hand slowly dropped.
“Dwight,” I said. “Jim’s our new sales rep. Remember? Michael said he had hired someone new?”
Dwight’s beady eyes lifted for a moment, spending only a second checking Jim out. “Right. Why are you bringing him over here, Pam? I thought he was supposed to sit in the back.”
“Well, Michael changed his mind,” I lied with a grin.
“Fine,” Dwight said, going back to his experiment. “You will sit there quietly and not disturb my experiments.”
We both watched Dwight for a moment before Jim spoke again. “Aren’t you supposed to be selling paper?”
“Pfft,” Dwight said, waving him off. “I’ve probably sold more paper in the past hour than you will all day. I’ve even met my goal for the day.”
“You’ve met all your goals for the day by ten?” Jim said in disbelief.
“Of course. What about you Mr. Hotshot New Guy? What were your stats at the last place you worked? I can tell just by looking at you that you couldn’t have been even a decent salesman.” Dwight looked at him as if he were interrogating him for a crime.
“I, uh—this is my first job,” Jim admitted. “Yeah, I graduated last May and I was originally going to—“
“Save your life story for someone who cares,” Dwight brushed him off.
The comment was a bit harsh and there was a part of me that felt bad that I was putting Jim next to Dwight. I gave Jim a reassuring smile.
“So, Dwight, what exactly are you doing, anyway?” I asked, knowing that whatever it was would be a great source of amusement.
“Well, if you really must know, I’m concocting the perfect serum to grow the perfect beet,” Dwight answered without thought.
“Beets, really, wow,” Jim said looking as though he wasn’t sure how to handle Dwight. “Why beets?”
“Dwight thinks he’s a farmer because he supposedly owns a beet farm,” I explained.
“I am a farmer Pam,” Dwight said firmly. “As well as a respected paper salesman.”
“Right,” I responded. “How come you’ve never sold any beets here?”
“This is a paper company, Pam,” Dwight said with a scoff. “If you want to have my beets, you’ll have to become a grocer and stock beets, only I wouldn’t sell you my beets because your grocery story would not do well enough for me to invest in it.”
I placed a hand to my mouth, stifling a laugh. Jim looked at me with wide eyes.
“So, what’s in this formula you’re creating?” Jim asked with mild curiosity.
“It’s a secret,” Dwight answered sharply. "If I give it to you then you can sell it to my competitors, thus putting me out of business.”
Jim gave me a glance as if to ask if Dwight were real. I nodded slowly, silently assuring him that Dwight was, unfortunately, very real.
--
Some time in the mid morning, after Jim had returned from doing all of his paper work, he came up to my desk with a VHS tape. “Can I help you?” I asked.
He looked incredibly amused about something. “This is my orientation video. Michael said that you knew how to work the VCR and told me to ask you to set it up.”
“Yeah, sure,” I said grabbing the tape. I noticed the label. “Oh my god, he finished it,” I said.
Jim looked confused. “Finished what.”
“The Scranton Witch Project,” I said with a laugh, holding up the tape so Jim could see the label. “Michael considers himself to be an amateur film maker. I can’t believe he’s making you watch this as an orientation film. Do you mind if I watch it with you?”
“Wow, yes, please watch with me,” Jim said excitedly.
We set up in the conference room, pushing two chairs in front of the TV to watch. Michael’s orientation film was as bad as any of the ones I had seen up to that point and Jim and I were laughing within the first five minutes.
About half way through the film, Jim shifted in his chair, leaning more in my direction. His arm brushed against mine and I realized just how close we were. I turned my head to see that he was looking at me and not at the screen, a warm smile on his face. Our eyes locked and I noticed that he had the most beautiful, kind green eyes that I had ever seen. My breath caught and I felt an unfamiliar twisting in my stomach. Most people call it the butterflies but I didn’t recognize the feeling at the time. I leaned away, putting more distance between us but it didn’t stop the feeling from being there.
I turned my head, trying to focus back on the film. Jim’s gaze lingered on me for a moment before he, too, turned back towards the TV. We remained silent throughout the rest of the film.
--
At lunch, I was seated at a table with Kelly and Phyllis. Kelly was chattering on about celebrity crushes as Phyllis nodded intently, every once in a while chiming in with a comment or two. I was spaced out, picking at my salad with my fork. I never did have much in common with the other women of the office.
Jim came in then, unsure of where to sit, like a kid on their first day at a new school. He took an empty table next to mine, slowly unpacking his lunch. I threw a smile in his direction and he gave me a warm smile back. We both ate quietly as Kelly continued to babble on. Occasionally, I’d throw Jim an eye-roll or a smirk when Kelly would say something crazy. He laughed.
Kelly’s back was turned to Jim so she couldn’t see him and after about ten minutes of listening to her, Jim began to mime her actions, causing me to giggle. Kelly was so unaware that she didn’t even notice. Phyllis did and took a second to glance between Jim and I. She gave me a wink.
Feeling that I probably shouldn’t have been making fun of Kelly with her sitting there and thinking that Jim would be better company, I gathered my lunch and took it to the table where he was sitting.
“Mind if I sit here?” I asked, placing my salad down on the table.
“I don’t know, it is kinda crowded,” he responded.
I sat down next to him. We ate in silence for a moment, both giving each other looks while Kelly rambled on about boy bands. Eventually, she and Phyllis got up and left, leaving Jim and I alone in the breakroom. “So, I have an important question for you. How are you holding up now that N’Sync has decided to take a break?” I asked with a snicker.
“Well, I was heartbroken, sure,” Jim deadpanned. “But, I’ll be honest, I’m much more of a Backstreet Boys fan.”
“Oh, that’s a shame,” I said shaking my head. “And here I thought we could be friends. You started out as such a cool guy.”
He looked at me earnestly. “You think I’m a cool guy?”
“Jim,” I said in all seriousness. “You are by far, the most interesting person to ever enter this office. So that fact alone makes you pretty cool by me.”
He smiled and sat back in his chair thoughtfully. “Thank you.”
--
“Uh, Pam, could I possibly get your help?” Jim was up at my desk just after lunch holding a badly copied sales report. I couldn’t help but let out a little laugh, having never seen a copy done so askew. Jim let out a sigh. “Okay, you may think it’s funny but I’m convinced that the copier hates me,” he joked.
“The copier is like an old man,” I replied as I came around my desk. “It’s cranky and hates everyone. I wouldn’t take it personally.”
“No,” he said with a laugh as we both headed to the copier. “I’m pretty sure the cranky old man hates me more than anyone else. I’ve been trying to get the thing to work for twenty minutes.”
“Well, maybe you’ll just have to learn from an expert,” I replied as I took his original from him.
“”Oh, really, are you calling an expert in, then?” he teased. “Oh, you mean you. Right. Did you have to take a class or something?”
“Yes, two of them,” I responded. “And I’m now certified. They gave me a piece of paper and everything. I’ll make you a copy. I’d have you make a copy yourself but you apparently suck at it.”
“Apparently, I do.”
He watched carefully as I showed him how to do a simple copy and a double-sided one. Jim is actually a quick learner, something I’ve picked up on over the years, so the fact that he would be back consistently over the next few weeks, claiming he still couldn’t get the copier to work was a bit unbelievable. A month or so later, when he didn’t know I was looking, I saw him use the copier perfectly. I never called him out on it, thinking it was a game and not wanting to give up the charade.
It wasn’t until years later that I realized getting me to help him with the copier was one of his ways of flirting.
--
Michael gave his usual mid-afternoon conference room meeting. Even when he had nothing to talk about, he always gave the same meeting. Who knows what insane thing Michael was going on about. It might have been a get rich scheme he had discovered on the internet. It might have been a discussion on how to get a girl he had met a coffee shop to go out with him. Whatever it was, it rarely pertained to selling paper.
All I remember from that meeting was that I was sitting in the back corner and Jim sat at the table. Any time Michael would say something outrageous, he would throw me a look of astonishment, as if to ask if Michael were real. After years of insane meetings, I had grown used to it but Jim’s reactions reminded me just how crazy the place I worked in really was.
I would laugh and shrug in return. As time went by, the astonished looks grew into smirks and eye-rolls. Those famous looks he would eventually give to the camera first went to me and I was amused every time.
--
The end of my day had always been slow. For whatever reason, less paper seemed to be sold at the end of the day then at the beginning, therefore, I had less to do. So, that was the time I usually got out my sketchbook and would work on my drawings. It had always been a peaceful part of my day; one that I looked forward to because it always made those last few hours fly by. Though, that day, when I noticed that the clock read three, I couldn’t believe that the end of the day was near.
I had just started sketching when Jim came to my desk, leaned on the counter, and grabbed a few jellybeans, popping them in his mouth as if it had always been his daily ritual. “Whatcha doing?” he asked.
“Oh, nothing,” I replied as if it were no big deal. I don’t remember what I was drawing, probably my pencil cup or stapler, as I did a lot of sketches of office supplies, but nothing memorable. “I like to draw sometimes. I’m an art fan.”
“Can I see?” he asked, his eyes letting me know he was genuine in his request.
No one besides my parents ever asked to see my artwork. “Um, sure,” I said handing him the sketchbook. “It’s just a hobby, nothing special.”
His eyes examined my sketches with great interest. “Wow…Pam,” he said, his amazement not false. “These are awesome.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said as he slowly flipped through the book. “Why aren’t you off being an artist somewhere?”
I shrugged. I didn’t have an answer for him. Or maybe the answer was too complicated.
“Well, I think they’re good,” he said as if he were the resounding expert on the subject.
For some reason, his opinion resonated and for the first time in a long time, I felt very encouraged.
--
I was finishing up the last of my faxes when Jim came up to the desk, his jacket on, his messenger bag around his shoulders, ready to leave for the day.
“Have a good first day?” I asked.
“Yeah, actually,” he answered to my surprise. He gave me a half smile that was more serious than I expected it to be. “I think I’m going to like working here.”
My jaw dropped slightly and I shook my head. “You say that now… I’ll ask again in a few years.”
He let out a laugh but didn’t reply. Instead, he anxiously drummed his fingers on the desk for a moment. “I, uh,” he stopped, as if thinking hard about what he was going to say next. He let out a little sigh and gave a half grin “I’ll see you tomorrow, k? Have a great night.”
I got the impression, and years later I learned my suspicions were correct, that Jim was going to say something else in that moment.
I gave him a warm smile. “Have a good evening, Jim. Because tomorrow, we get to do this all over again.”
--
“You seem different,” Roy commented when we returned home that evening.
I was getting dinner ready, a bounce in my step as I got out a pot for spaghetti. “I just had a good day at work,” I said with a shrug.
Truth was, I don’t think I had ever had such a good day at work and the change was so noticeable that even Roy felt he should comment. “What happened, Michael get fired or something?” He asked.
“No, I just—“ I hadn’t really stopped to think about it. “No, we just got a new guy and he seemed cool,” I responded nonchalantly. “Made the day go faster.”
Roy eyed me almost suspiciously. At the time, I was grateful that a day at work had flown by. It hadn’t occurred to me that Jim was the specific reason.
“Really? Some guy?”
I gave him a smirk, wrapping my arms around him. “I just had a good day, that’s all.” I gave him a playful kiss.
He should have been rightfully worried but he wasn’t. Instead, he wrapped me up in his arms, liking this new version of me. The one that was much more alive. He kissed me back. “Well, I think you should have good days more often.”
I did have good days more often, much to Roy’s delight but they became more complicated as well. I was falling in love with one man while falling out of love with another and by the time I comprehended what was going on, I had dug myself into a very deep hole.
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© 2006-2023 More Than That | Skin created by Kali
© 2006-2023 More Than That | Skin created by Kali