“You bitch!”
I was back from lunch not ten minutes when Justine, the saucy receptionist, barged in and planted herself in a chair in my office to grill me. An un-opened email from one of the secretaries sat in my inbox, undoubtedly expressing the same sentiment. I’d been seen leaving with New Boy. And the office rumor mill was grinding at full speed.
“Girl, he’s so hot.”
“He’s nice,” I said. “And young.”
“Every girl needs a boy toy.”
“He’s not my boy toy! He just asked me to lunch.”
“You’re so gonna tap that. And if you’re not, send him my way.”
“Justine!”
My own experience with the company ink is still fresh enough in my mind to prevent any such… tapping. David. Architect. Six months of hot elevator rides and one very messy break-up later, I was done with office romance. Forever. Sure, there was a bit of a scandal later with the Indy Rock Boy, but we kept it strictly to after-work drinking and frenzied cab rides. After he quit.
When Justine left, tsking under her breath, I clicked on my Outlook. Sure enough, there was an email telling me that New Boy not only “looks like a Baldwin” but is office-rated as very kissable. I had to agree. There was also an email from New Boy himself, whose smart-assedness was decidedly flirtatious.
I had to grin a bit out of self-satisfaction.
While I’ll admit, the idea is intriguing, I’d like to think I’m a girl who’s learned a lesson or two from her mistakes. One awkward coffee room moment and suddenly no amount of frisky elevator interlude is worth it. This I know. Thankfully, this office is not a social one and there are very few occasions where we all go out and get liquored up. Because, well, under the influence, I tend to rationalize. And get a little frisky.
you are so gonna tap that! ; )
Nothing like office flirtation to keep things interesting at work….and make the time pass quickly!
Hormones make my memory get all fuzzy. I hope that doesn’t happen to you too.
I’m such a liar; I totally hope that happens to you too. ;-P
Old office saying from a veteran office worker: never get your meat where you get your bread. Not that I’m giving advice, mind.
Now consider a career change to Kinko’s or Starbucks. Lousy hours, worse pay, but NO elevators to trouble the young and the frisky.
Oh I get to be saucy! I’ve been alot of things, but saucy’s a definite step up.
I still am not so sure the Office Hottie (what is it with calling him the G-rated “New Boy”?!) is playing for our team, though…
Justine
God It’s like you speak a different language over there.
I’m going to demand subtitles soon.
Flirt there is no harm in that makes the day go by faster!
Hey, situations like these make work fun! At least, it makes hearing about your work fun!!
(Not that I don’t want to hear about non-hottie work-related stuff.)
Wow, your office talks like TV people!
My vote is for tact and common sense. You said it yourself, been there done that, Show us a new trick.
Life is short. Go for it.
Wait. . . wouldn’t YOU be the company ink? And New Boy would be the one doing the, um, dipping? Or am I reading too much anatomical subtext into that cliche?
It could get messy. In a good way.
‘This is not a social office’.
You exchange emails on non-work related stuff…that’s social in my book…
Mind you, my book is also British, and all of the characters apart from me are either mad, over 50, or both.
An old girlfriend once referred to it as “having her ink dipped” in reference to a situation like yours. sometimes they go well and sometimes they don’t. go read breakupbabe.
the lifestyles of the hot and horny. those of
us that are, well, …ugly we just steam. nobody
wants to fuck us. but you…you fuck for us!
you keep the gene pool bubbling, circulating.
you keep it steamy and wet. thank you!
Er…riiiiiiiiiight.
I truly don’t mean this rudely, but oh my god, at some point could you please consider not spelling it “indy”?
Of COURSE you meant it rudely.
Just like, when I tell you to fuck off, I mean it with exactly the same amount of rudeness.