Music: Fit 4 U - The Young Knives
It was a slow morning at work yesterday so I had plenty of time to slyly check my emails and see if I’d received any more messages or winks from potential online suitors. By lunchtime I had been sent two more messages and had been winked at three more times. As I pressed Ctrl+Alt+Delete to lock my computer to walk to the sandwich shop I felt positively upbeat.
I mean, I hadn’t actually read the messages or seen who they were from (as that would involve logging on to an internet dating website at work and running the risk of everyone seeing what a loser I am) but that didn’t matter. Some men out there thought I was pretty and interesting enough to take the time to get in touch with me, and that alone was an ego boost.
I was in my own little dream world as I put on my coat and grabbed my bag, so I was a bit startled when my colleague (and very good friend) Mick interrupted my thoughts. It resulted in a very interesting conversation.
“Oi! Slapper!” he shouted across the office.
“Are you off to the sandwich shop?”
“Yeah,” I replied with a smile.
Not many people can get away with calling me a slapper, but Mick is one of them.
“Can I come with?” Mick asked, already slipping on his coat.
“Yeah, of course,” I replied, knowing full well that a walk to the shop with Mick meant a full on gossip and slag off session of some of our other work “mates” who we loved to hate.
Mick is a few years older than me and is very happily married with a young son and another baby on the way. He’s got a wicked sense of humour and has the amazing ability to make me crease up with laughter over the most stupid things. We used to sit next to each other before he got moved as we were told that we talked too much and apparently had “too much fun at work”. Now we have to chat over email and synchronise our breaks.
My other really good mate at work is Dan. He works on the same team as me and has only been with the company for about a year. Mick, Dan and I have such a good laugh with each other and sometimes that’s the only thing that keeps me going. Dan isn’t married but he lives with his girlfriend and they’ve been together about five years or so. His favourite way to wind me up is to slag off rugby union he is a die-hard rugby league fan. But Dan’s not the only one with the wind ups as we all take the piss out of each other on a daily basis. This usually involves jibes focussed on Mick’s ever increasing moobs, my beard (which is a LIE as I do NOT have facial hair) and Dan being a Manchester United glory supporter.
My team leader once said that Mick, Dan and I are like the three amigos of the office, and I suppose that it’s true. If it wasn’t for those two then the office would be a much duller place (especially now that Foxy Scott has moved on to pastures new and I can’t while away my time flirting with him).
On the way to the sandwich shop Mick and I chatted about the weekend's football and rugby fixtures and the usual sort of stuff. On the way back he steered the topic of conversation in a completely different direction which took me totally by surprise.
As he munched on his tuna baguette Mick asked me who I thought the best looking blokes in the office were. What a question.
“So come on then,” Mick asked through a mouthful of sandwich. “As a young - well youngish - single woman, you must have given some thought as to who at work is hot and who’s not whilst you lean seductively against the photocopier?”
“Ha, ha, very funny Mick,” I replied, trying my best to evade his ridiculous line of questioning.
It’s not that I hadn’t considered this before, but why on earth did he want to know?
“You’re only asking as you’re desperate for a quick ego boost because you’re careering headlong into your mid-life crisis!” I teased.
“No I’m not,” Mick said as he picked bits of tuna mayonnaise off his sandwich wrapper.
“Yeah, yeah,” I replied. “I’m not going to massage your ego so you might as well just put yourself out of your misery and buy that impractical red sports car you’ve been eyeing up on the internet.” I continud.
“Ha, ha, very funny,” Mick replied. “I’m not buying that car as it goes, and as for my question? Well, I’m just interested in who you think the resident office bog-creatures are. So go on, tell me,” he persisted.
Er, OK then...
“Well, Scott would have been top of my list but he’s left now so I can’t really count him...” I said thoughtfully.
“No you can’t count him”, Mick replied, as he rammed the last bit of baguette into his mouth. “So who would be your number one?”
That was a difficult question. Undoubtedly Mick would rush off and tell whoever I chose straight away, but at the same time there was no point in lying about it.
“Number one would be Dan I think”, I said quite decisively after a few moments of thought. Mick looked quite surprised.
“Don’t look at me like that!” I said hurriedly. The expression on Mick’s face had changed to that of a schoolboy who had discovered pictures of naked women in his science text book.
Shit, I had to qualify the statement before his mind started whirring.
“What I mean is, Dan is unquestionably good looking and has a lovely smile but obviously I don’t actually fancy him as he’s my mate and is more like a brother. Oh, and he has a girlfriend.”
Phew, good save. It's true though, he just just a mate. A very good mate.
But Dan is good looking. Very good looking. He’s not especially tall but he is taller than me. He has broad strapping shoulders and is quite stocky, and his short dark hair is sexily flecked with grey at the temples. Oh, and that gorgeous, winning smile. He used to play rugby for a local amateur side, and yes, he does have rather lovely arms under his work shirts (from what I can make out).
“OK then,” Mick said, wiping his mouth with a serviette. “Who’s number two?”
“Ha! I should say you as you are a total shit for asking me this!” I joked. “Er, number two would be Sean I think”.
“Yeah, I can see that,” Mick replied.
Sean is a trainee in our department and is pretty fit, but he really knows it and is a bit of a slag with the ladies.
“Again,” I continued, “I think Sean is good looking but I don’t fancy him as I know what he’s like. Number three would be Tim from next door,” at which point Mick and I both stopped walking to do a really bad impression of Tim’s strange nasal inflection.
“I know he’s got a weird sounding voice,” I said, “but he is good looking and I could always gag him or something!”
We had almost arrived back at the office and I had reeled off numbers four and five as one of the team leaders and the new guy Jason. Mick looked surprised and said
“Jason? But I’m better looking than Jason!”
“Ahh, so that’s what this was all about! It was an ego trip for you after all!” I said with a slightly mocking tone. “Oh well I suppose that I’m starting to scrape the bottom of the barrel now so you’d be number six”.
Mick looked quite put out.
“I’ve been told before that I could have been a male model you know,” he said despondently as we climbed the stairs.
After I’d peeled myself up off the floor and stopped laughing I sensed that he might have felt a bit hurt.
“Well I’m sure you could have been... in your day! At least you’re above doddery old Malcolm.” I laughed again, before continuing, “You know me - I like my men young!”
Mick laughed and we went back to our desks. As I ate my sandwich I heard him muttering “Jason?” under his breath.
Male model my arse! But what was all that about? Was he just being nosey or is he trying to set me up - either with a bloke from work or for a fall? I can't work it out... What do you think?
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