I work in an office, and before you go imagining me in a tight black pencil skirt bending over to pick up that pen you've dropped (whoops!) I should let you know it's non-profit. Consequently everyone who works in this office is paid less then usual and (excluding myself) either learned English as a second language or are obese. Yes, they're all lovely polite friendly individuals but I want something to look at other then that torturous IKEA clock.
I want to work in the kind of office where everybody starts drinking at eleven, where men slick their hair and wear tailored suits and women hide sexy lingerie under their business casual. I want to walk into the break room and see people talking about stocks around the water cooler.
I want somebody to have sex on the copier.
I want to have sex on the copier.
But my life isn't an episode of Mad Men. It's as if payment for gender equality has come in the form of florescent lighted cubicle drudgery. It's not even reminiscent of office space because everybody is so bent on (heaven forbid) working.
So here's the essential question, in this daily routine full of doldrums are you 'allowed' to flirt during the 1 minute it takes that perky robot to create your cup of caffeinated sludge? According to my temp contract a good little office worker does not "become personally involved with individual(s) at [a] client office". I took this to mean no hanky panky with those temporary coworkers.
But when have I ever in my young life acted in accordance to the polite standards that surround attraction. I stand by the fact that refusing 'never say never' is like asking the universe to fuck you in the ass, so we'll see what happens.
'DILF of the Week'
Yes my friends, that is a man-gina. That is also probably the only man that I will ever find attractive doing the man-gina. His name is Jason Beghe, he played that writer on that one episode of Californication and this is what I will always remember him for.
Just let it happen.
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