The Place Where I Work: Afternoon Delight

In my life outside the office, the romance is non-existent. This is shocking, I know, because I seem so open hearted, non-aloof, and never choose to stay in and watch old episodes of Bones instead of taking a chance on love.
That is me being sarcastic again-yet another reason I will be alone n’ graffitti’ing up them Valentines Day movie posters- besides me playin’ bitter, that movie just looks like it sucks. There are 15 actors too many in it and you know it’s going to be cheesy.
Anywho, my office love life is filled with drama, intrigue and more importantly…romance.

If you’ve been keeping up with my work ramblings you know about Drake and how we went from hate to love. He and I are buddies. I’ve brought out the personality that he’s hidden from the world. Call it breaking shyness…or our love being like water to a dying plant.
Yes, I just typed that.
Because I love the song ‘Big Pimpin’’, I cannot have love for one work ho. In my outside office life I don’t have the energy to love more than one ho. I’ve tried, but fail at it miserably.
At work though: its big pimpin’ babyyyy!
There’s Drake, these two interchangeable ho’s- they both have shaved heads, tall, nerdy awkward, are Black, and I am light enough for them to get promotions (honestly cannot think of names for these dudes). In my pimp-dom I’ve also stolen ho’s.
B loves this dude we call Ginger (he has red hair and therefore has ‘salmon cock’-which will be a whole other blog). Ginger AKA Quinger AKA Sheep’s Queef has caught B doing some pretty awesome things (like when she followed the 10 second rule with a cookie she accidently tossed in the trash, he watched as she pulled the cookie out of the trash and ate it)-he also makes her so nervous that she seems mildly retarded when around him.
Because I could give a rat’s hairy ass, he is smitten. He finds ways to chat and tells me things about his life. My looks of disinterest and one word responses just pull-him-into the vortex that is my loins. I don’t want to stab this dude like I do Black Tom Cruise (more on him later), but he wears these tri-colored boating shoes and ties with kangaroos on them. That just screams fetish sex-like he wears thongs or likes to be shat on.
It really just excited me too much that I used the word ‘shat’.
Didn’t mean to turn ole Quinger on, but I do. B is dealing-though we may knife fight by a pool or something.
Poor Blair attracted this married dude-who is attractive, but married-he loves walking by her just to stare at her impressive rack. Today, after 2 elevator rides, I have stolen her married boo and (thanks to B) named him Defelatio. I made the mistake of looking in dudes eyes which are gateways to creepy sexual things. He was also playing ‘pocket pool’ both times we spoke. Defelatio enjoyed holding the elevator doors for me and asking: going down? There was a twinkle in his pervy eyes.
I liked it. So, I let Blair know I was snaking that ish. She doesn’t seem to mind.

Lastly and certainly least, there’s Black Tom Cruise. One would think after he tried asking me out for lunch and I stared at him that he would understand my lack of interest in him or his permed ponytail. Like Quinger, my indifference only makes his Dockers fit a little tighter in the crotch area.
The other day Black Tom Cruise initiates this conversation with me. It began with him asking about my long weekend (I responded with ‘fine’), to him asking about my relationship status. I tell him I have no love for the ho’s. He mentions he just got out of a long term relationship. I stare blankly imagining the kind of woman that would stay with him for anything longer than a $20 hand job (it’s a recession). He goes on to drop life knowledge about how you can’t tell someone what to do, that they have to want to do it themselves. Then it was MY turn to drop life knowledge on him. I say that people enter relationships thinking they can change people. You shouldn’t and you can’t. You have to accept what you think are flaws…or don’t. He nods and says I am quite wise. Now he has been circling me like a shark. Oy!

As you can see, my office love life and outer love office life share one commonality: when I don’t want it, it wants me.