A Quarter Life Crisis

Not sure what the deal is these days but I think every man I’ve come in contact with and a few I haven’t seen in person recently crawled out of the woodworks. My look hasn’t changed in any way. I figure I must be producing high pheromone levels that are exuded even through the phone.

OK maybe this needs some explanation. So for the last three weeks or so I’ve been working closely with a particular manager who has an eerie likeness to Steve Carrall. There’s nothing inherently wrong with said likeness but from time to time I want him to scream ahhhh Kelly Clarkson. In turn he obviously wants me to allow him to motorboat. If not he has a weird obsession with my breasts. Needless to say we haven’t completed this transaction.

Incidentally I am not at all bothered by men staring at my chest. By now I’m used to it and am working on that patent for areola discourse.

Mailroom Boy dropped not so subtle hints about the upcoming Ne-Yo concert and before my trip for 8 blessed weeks away from the office to Chicago (don’t get excited it’s for work not play) he shoved his telephone number down my throat. OK that sounds a touch violent but he might as well have since I was in one of those positions where I couldn’t say no lest totally ruin a decent work friend relationship. In any event I’m now quasi obligated to use said number for communication purposes. This rock and a hard place is not a fun place to be. Might I add he also mentioned something about Valentine’s Day.

I am not sure when we developed this type of relationship, might I remind him that I don’t dip the office ink.

To add to this madness, 21 Jumpstreet sent a phantom text message saying he misses me. WTF???? Where did that come from? Me floored. I immediately dialed Nurse and The Best Friend to over analyze this situation before responding. After about ten minutes of relatively non productive conversations with both I decided to simply respond, R u serious (texting is the best/worst form of communication)? To which he simply said of course.

Sometimes his non chalantism really gets under my skin. Mind you this is the same gent who when I was nearly throwing it at him Cole Hamels style he didn’t even bat an eye. Men!

We later have a brief conversation where he doesn’t care to address the implications of this text nor his odd I will always wait for you comment from weeks before. He simply states that he wanted to stay fresh in my mind because we’re supposed to be going bowling.

The up side to this weird out of nowhere extra male attention, the cabbie aka The Spaniard! With every rain storm there’s a rainbow. Ohh ohh ohh Buenos Dias to me!!!! Most times, and no offense to cab drivers the world over but cabbies are icky-such a technical term I know. But the Spaniard was oh la la (OK that was French). We had superb conversation. As I pocketed his telephone number OK more like stored it in my cell phone he said to definitely give him a call when I’m back in the city and no not just for a ride to and from the airport. Did I mention he’s in school for Criminal Justice at my Alma Mater? He won brownie points!