There is a guy that I see every day at work. He stands about 6'2. Nice athletic build. Always impeccably dressed in a suit (I like the charcoal gray one the best), tie, modest shoes. He has the complexion of a Werther's caramel candy. His hair is cut low, not bald but conservatively low. He walks with his left hand in the pocket of his pants, with the confidence of a man who is relaxed and at ease but always ready for what comes his way. His facial expression is always the same, slight grin like a model in a GQ ad. We don't work for the same company (lucky him), we don't even work on the same floor (at least I don't think we do). We share an elevator bank. He works somewhere between the 10th floor and the 17th floor. I don't know for sure because whenever I see him he's either getting off the elevator and I'm getting on or vice versa. The worst is when he passes through the security gate before me and the door to his elevator closes just as I pass through the gate. The other day, when I was coming back from lunch. I stepped on to the elevator and immediately the elevator fills up with a crowd of people. I look up just as the doors are closing and there he is. He gives the "oh hell no I'm not squeezing on this damn elevator" wave and turns away to get on the empty elevator across the way. Slight grin in tact. In my overly imaginative mind, I leaped off the crowded elevator and glided a few feet to the empty elevator where my Elevator Prince Charming swooped me up into his arms and threw me up against the elevator walls, pulled my hair a little and.......damn its getting hot in this crowded ass elevator.
Anywho, my elevator bank crush will remain just that - a crush. I'm not the type to approach a guy. There have been 2 times in life when I appeared to be the "aggressor" when in actuality, it was someone else acting on my behalf or nudging me along. First time, a woman I worked with called a guy, said she was me, asked him to be my prom date (since I dumped mine the night before and prom was in a few days), and invited him to lunch. She tells me what she did exactly 30 minutes before he arrives at the office. My boss sprung for lunch (apparently the whole office was in on this), we go to lunch, and he is forever immortalized in my photo album as my "Prom Date", even though he later turned out to be an ass. The second time, my best friend and I are at a bar and we run into a guy we grew up with. After he flirts for a few minutes, she strongly suggests that I write my number on a napkin to pass to him. I say no. So after a few minutes of her oh so loving nagging, I say "FINE". She gives me a pen. I grab a napkin off the bar, write my number on the napkin and the rest is manchild history. Of course, she will never live this one down (hahahahahaa).
I actually like that the elevator bank man is just a crush. If we actually spoke, he might sound like Mike Tyson, and that would rain on my fantasy parade. Or he could be a manchild, and I'm immune to them (like chickenpox - have them once, can't have them again). Or he could have the ghey and I would be the Grace to his Will. No, I'd rather be the Karen to his Jack so I can have her money and her closet.
So I will continue to look for the impeccably dressed man with the GQ grin at the elevator bank around lunch time and crush on him. And wait until he throws me up against the elevator wall. Again. Damn it's hot in here.
Transition train wreck.
16 hours ago
1 comment:
I mean you can at least say something witty to the brother...that's not you being the aggressor, that's just you trying to start some banter.
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