Our office is divided into three sections, who fascinatingly enough rock three distinct styles.
1. Section One is largely male-focused, though there are a few female employees. And...they are, in my opinion the best and most-appropriately dressed for work. Who would have thought?!? Way to go, gentlemen. The attire? American Classic office casual. Most of the guys wear button down shirts (my kryptonite) and some nice-fitting jeans or trousers. They look fiiiiine! It IS in full disclosure that I should point out my office crush (is he or isn't he?? I still don't know!! Is every polite, handsome, stylish man gay?! He looks INCREDIBLE today. But he doesn't even glance my way....) works in this section. About 2 years ago, the majority of New York men suddenly started sporting jeans that fit well, handsome shirts and stylish footwear, and ever since I have been completely at a loss regarding anyone's sexual orientation or nationality. It was like holding a giant magnet up to my gaydar.
2. Section Two is largely female-focused (though like Section One there are of course males working too!) It's HUGELY hip and trendy and stylish and sexier than I could ever imagine time putting into an outfit. The ladies of section two (for the most part) look like they're on their way to somewhere very posh and elite and important and I'm not invited.
This is the thing. I wish I looked as hot as they do, but at the same time, it just doesn't make any sense to me, practically. I'd like to wear f*me heels, and figure-hugging dresses and have my hair sleek and bouncy. I really, really would. I'm sure it would solve a bunch of my less important problems. BUT...I walk to work (sneakers) I move around at my desk a lot (jeans) and my hair is a force of natural insanity deserving of documentation by National Geographic. To make myself look presentable, I'd need to wake up a few hours earlier in the morning, and then what's the point of a sexy dress if I look like a strung-out crank-fiend? For example, today I'm wearing a nice, comfortable shift dress, tights, and converse. This might be why people keep thinking I'm 24. But I am wearing makeup! HAHA. Score one.
3. Section Three is a Bermuda-Triangle style mystery. Some of it's employees are tough-looking, while others look like they're getting excited for freshman orientation (secret: they're 30.) It's pretty funny. But I've got to give them credit, it keeps things fun and exciting. It's like The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo meets Superbad.
That's so accurate I am smiling from ear to ear. Every once in a while, I get it right.
Ok, another work sidenote. I'm a bit at a loss here. Currently being SUPREMELY IRRITATED by two people who work for the building my company resides in. For brevity's sake, I'll just talk about the young messenger. Here's the deal...
He's a young guy who has a bit of a crush on me. Fair enough. Thank you. BUT he's 22 and annoying as hell. Every single time he comes up to our floor, he stops to make some inane conversation and ask stupid questions. And I haven't quite figured out a way to politely let him know that I want him to leave me alone. Yesterday's interaction went like this:
Him: Hey (my name)! (He always uses my name!!)
Me: Hello.
Him: Have you been out in the sunshine today?
Me: Nope. I'm working, as you can see.
Him: Do you hate when you walk into the movie theatre, and people are talking?
Me: What the fuck are you talking about you stupid bastard?
(THAT'S NOT WHAT I SAID BUT I WISH I HAD)
(What I actually said was...)
Me: Nope. If they're talking before the movie that's totally fine with me. Once the movie starts, people for the most part are polite and quiet down.
Him: Do you like to go to the movies?
Me: Uhm. No. Never.*
(*That's absolutely the furthest thing from the truth.)
Then I stared at something really intently on my desk (OK - I was staring at my Jackie Chan bobblehead - I'll post a picture sometime) and he eventually went away.
I don't want to be mean to this kid, but I have no interest in talking every damn time I see him. V suggested that I pretend to be on the phone whenever he comes by, but I'm THE WORST at fake phone calls, to the point that it's hilarious.
Fake Phone Call: Oh hello. It's me. I'm calling about that thing we talked about earlier. (dramatic pause) Oh you know. The usual. (pause) Penguins? I had no idea. (Another pause. Is he gone yet?) Ok, well it has been very pleasant to converse with you. Until next time....(hangs up).
