Normally I listen to standup comedy while I get ready for work, but I noticed the entire notion of “morning,” especially “rainy morning,” offers much less “fuck this shit” when I have music on. So today I put my iPod on shuffle and heard:
1. An Amy Winehouse song called “Amy Amy Amy” about dolling oneself up for a workplace flirtation…while I examined a pair of jeans I pulled from the hamper to make sure they weren’t the ones I dropped guacamole on the other day.
I am basically sex on a stick, you guys. I don’t even know how y’all deal with me.
P.S. There was also “Shut Up and Drive” by Rihanna, which proclaims, “I got class like a ’57 Cadillac,” which…clearly, with the guacamole and the llamas and the $2 Old Navy flip flops. But also, “got all the drive and a whole lotta boom in the back,” which — pfft — is TOTALLY true.
Email to a male coworker: “I almost feel bad every time they bring a new male employee in, because my eyes automatically check his left hand for a wedding ring. But I DON’T feel bad, because at least I check.”
Then again, when I tell my other friend a man is married, he always asks, “Well, sure, but…happily?” But investigating that involves too many potential emotional landmines for me.
Another male coworker is married and just had a kid, and a female coworker (also married) told me earlier she thinks he’s “so sexy.” And I agree, I want to nibble his lower tummy — don’t judge me, that’s what comes to mind. And this woman said, “I’m married, not dead.” Damn straight, lady. Respect. Dude is STUPID good-looking — like, I don’t even understand how he’s walking among us mere mortals.
And there’s another guy who’s SO cute, and he has NO idea. Like, I met him and expected him to be a total pretty-boy douche, but he’s super nice. (And also probably below my age bracket, but… I mean, there are always exceptions… “And when I clock black hair, blue eyes, I drift off, I fantasize…”)