The guy from work.

I have been very mindful to keep away from people at work. Never at ease with making new friends I have kept my nose to computer and stayed away from making work relationships. Many reasons for this:

1. I’m shy.
I know this seems silly to those who know me or read this, but I am actually a very shy person. Since junior high I have been judged as stuck up or superior and ridiculed. Stay away and I can say they don’t know me. If they get to know me they can find something real to bitch about that will hurt more.

2. I have to make a paycheck.
If I become uncomfortable with a work relationship it can interfere with my work. Meaning I might escape, i.e. quit, or be fired for poor performance. People might see me as unprofessional and I won’t advance.

3. I have more important things to think about.
Work is what I do to make ends meet, not the purpose of my existence. I want to leave, and carry on with life not worry about what so-and-so will think of me.


My reasons are based on how I will be perceived… but let’s face it, how people perceive you is how they treat you and when you spend 40 fucking hours a week with them you kind of want to be treated well.

So, a few months ago we had a new batch of sales people come through. One late afternoon of training, when they were left to their own devices, waiting for five o’clock to roll around, one guy comes up to my desk to chat. Five minutes into the conversation I got a call and excused myself thinking he would go away. No such luck. He waited. I wanted to kick him.


I endured a 30 minute conversation of smiling and trying to be polite. My face felt like it was going to fall apart. The following afternoon repeated the painful experience and I felt like all the guys around me were laughing. After this particular suitor got into the job he left me alone and all was right with the world again.

Until one day in the break room... I was getting some water and he approached asking about my book. This thing is nothing but a pain in my ass.

“I heard you are writing a book about dating.” He says.
“Uh…”
“Someone told me you are writing a book.”
“Yes… started it about internet dating. Experiences and stuff.”

I am super eloquent when caught off guard. I proceeded in half sentences about why I began to write this failure of a journal and then dislodged myself from the conversation so I could crawl back to my cube. I thought it was over and vowed never to find myself in the break room with him again.

Less than ten minutes later I get an email explaining that he heard about my book through conversations he’d had with co-workers regarding his own dating experiences. They suggested he write a book about all the crazies he encountered. The subject came up that I was doing so. Who the fuck is discussing me? I thought.

We emailed back and forth, casually, it seemed. I talked about the Principal and the start of our LDR. He talked about the long term relationships he’d endured and how he was approaching dating now (not internet yet) mixed in with trivialities of life in general. Very disarming.
He gave me his number more than twice, which I deleted upon receiving. One day however, he mentioned a short story based on a photo taken at work he’d written and I gave him my personal email. I also let him read my blog.

The plot thickens.
He would email me at home and I would check to see if he had. Bad business. Everything was very mundane and normal until he went out of town, emailed me drunk how much he liked me and I had to be professional, shoot him down. He took it with stride. Apologized for putting me in that position, etc, etc. The helping factor was that I’d learned he’d fooled around with at least two other people at work and called him out on it.

Now, I realize this guy is a womanizer and using my own ego against me. By confessing how much he likes me, as a person, he has my soft side, but I understand the confession was all about getting to the soft side so he can get to every side.


I also know I love the Principal. My Catholic guilt is severely kicking my ass because while I love the Principal I enjoy getting the attention of Work Guy.

Work Guy emails me about his dates and how he picks up on girls. It happens to be hilarious, but I try to be supportive. By constantly asking him what he wants I feel I am pushing him toward a truth: He doesn’t know what he wants.


I have tried to explain to him that if he understands he is pursuing women to have fun, be light hearted with, then he will attract such women. But if he is looking for a relationship his methods are all wrong. Fun party girls are not going to give him depth and commitment. When told that, he’s content with not being ready for a relationship after his two consecutive long term girlfriends. However, it just doesn’t add up.

Becoming his friend through the safe medium of email allowed me to see his humor and intelligence. It was just too bad the dude is a Lech. He messed around with a hot Scottsdale looking workmate so she could get back at her estranged lover, who is another workmate. Then he screwed a young workmate who happens to be the company gossip mill… All the while hitting on random girls at Target and the grocery store. Goal: How many numbers he can get.

I do admire his energy. He seems to be able to go out with multiple girls all the time. It makes me tired just to think about it. All the getting to know you shit and being yourself, but not offending anybody that usually makes my back hurt, he seems to thrive on.


At first, I felt like I was making a friend. I looked forward to emailing him, laughing at his responses. And it felt safe. I wasn’t actually face to face with him, nor interested in him as anything other than a friend/co-worker, even after his drunken email.

One afternoon I was emailing him about going to Scottsdale to pick up a chair the Principal had ordered. He lived “right around the corner” and would meet me for a drink if I was up for it. At the time he had been dating a girl for 5 weeks so I didn’t think it was odd for two co-workers to get a drink. (Yes, I know I am stupid.)

We had bar food and a couple beers. It was the first time I had a face to face conversation with him since he asked about my book in the break room. I doubted my sanity that this was a good thing
for me to be doing…


Casually, but quite obviously, he checked out the waitress. I had to snort. She was a waitress in her thirties, severely underweight and a little worse for the wear. I said as much and he was appalled. She couldn’t be that old! I gave him my interpretation of waitresses of that age. She probably had kids, and why the hell was she waitressing? Not that it’s a bad profession, but how do her goals match up with his?


Work Guy was further taken aback. This was some sort of freaking revelation for him. Should he actually look beyond a tight ass and consider the shit that could potentially come out of a woman’s mouth which might make her enjoyable to just be around? The next day he was all over the ideology that he should not date waitresses… But hostesses were still game. They exhibited some class, right?

After dinner we half hugged like friends with leprosy and drove away.
We discussed his affinity for socks. He wears colorful, wacky socks and makes sure to match them to his outfit. If he wasn’t such a womanizer I would assume him gay. I also had to insert how my socks rarely match and are often inside out.


A week later, owing him money from the first night, we got sushi on my dime. I was determined to make it even because I didn’t want him thinking we went out and he bought my dinner. It wasn’t as laid back this time. I was uncomfortable and it felt like a date. Dangerous ground as I have a boyfriend in another state who only occasionally talks to me.

Work Guy gave me fuzzy socks to mix match at my pleasure. It was a nice gesture… but a date like gesture and I told him so. Backing off he shrugged and said he couldn’t not buy them for me, he laughed when he saw them. I brushed it off.
I have a tendency to be naive about male attention…


At the end of the night we walked out to our cars, he gave me a hug and looked into my eyes. I patted his shoulder, said no (to that “I might try to kiss you look”) and then complimented his sweater. Right there in the parking lot he took off his sweater and gave it to me. Then said goodnight and walked off in his undershirt.


I drove home, repeatedly telling myself it was merely a friendly act of giving me a sweater he’d bought for $5 at Old Navy and not a romantic gesture of any sort. But it smelled good and manly. So I put it on.

The next night I went over to Angie’s house for beer and girl talk. Her relationship with Buff Guy is going exceedingly well. They are in love, he is swooning over her and she feels, for the first time, like she is truly adored. I love her so I didn’t bitch slap her. It is impossible for me to be jealous when I know she deserves every bit of this great time she’s having.


I talked about Work Guy casually, but her ears perked up about the socks and sweater. I just hung my head and cried out “I don’t know what’s wrong with me!” Her look had said it all. What was I doing? It was inappropriate to be emailing and sometimes texting a guy who is not my boyfriend.

Angie, always quick to counsel me, jumps in that I wouldn’t be seeking this attention if I was getting what I needed from the Principal. (One of the reasons she is my best friend is because she constantly tells me how I’m gorgeous and could have my pick of any men. She’s delusional, but I like it.) She also gets real testy whenever I talk about the communication deficiencies I have with the Principal.

So, I decided I no longer needed to talk to Work Guy. It was detrimental to my relationship and I could no longer call it innocent. I texted him that our friendship was inappropriate and we should not communicate outside of work nor email about non-work related things. He was very understanding.


The next day at work was tense. I didn’t look at him, and he didn’t look at me. He left early and I felt a wave of relief that it was over.

Monday morning I ran into him in the break room. There were a couple other people there, all chatting, and Work Guy looked like he’d rather have hot pokers shoved up his arse than try to wade through coworkers to get his tea. I tried to be casual. It was so awkward. When I got back to my desk, I emailed him that he needn’t feel uncomfortable around me. I hoped he wouldn’t be one of those guys who hates a girl after she rejects his advances…


He liked that I called him out on his acting like a ninny. We joked. Relief. I wouldn’t need to find a new job after all...