Coworker: Megan, we’re thinking of changing office water suppliers for our locations. What do you think?
Me (alarmed): What? No! We can’t do that!!!
Coworker: Why not?
Me: Because… because… I’m in love with the delivery guy!
Coworker: Oh, well we’re not changing OUR office water supplier, we’re switching everyone else over to ours.
Me: Oh, thank God, we’re keeping Carl.
Carl of the handsome face. Carl of the slightly ironic smile. CARL OF THE FOREARMS! Oh, God, the toned, brawny forearms. Forget Zeus, Aquarius est satis for me!
I must confess, I briefly thought of saying that I would quit if we switched water providers. That’s how bad this crush is. It’s bad enough that I only vaguely remember what his face looks like (though I recall that it was handsome enough), but I also know NOTHING about him, other than that he comes to my office every other Wednesday at 11:30am. Ish. And oh, how that “ish” spurns me. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SCHEDULE MY DAY AROUND “ISH”!?
Some of my friends have suggested that I simply ask him out. Historically, this approach has not worked for me. I tend to like guys who are emotionally unavailable and/or douchebags. I can only assume that Carl is one or both. Or worse, he’s stupid. Forearms are not an adequate substitute for intelligence, despite how readily they awaken primeval desire. So I will persist in NOT asking him out, and will continue pining, sadly.
After all, “next to being married, a girl likes to be crossed in love now and then.” (Bonus points if you are NOT female, and you know where that quote is from.)
