You’re not even a good fragrance of douche.

A few months ago I posted about a man from a neighboring office in my building. I pass him in the hall sometimes and we exchange workplace pleasantries. That day, though, he asked if I’d been dieting, because I looked “really good” and “like I’d lost weight.”

I’ve seen him a few times since, and we were back to, “Good morning, how are you?”

But I just saw him again and he said, “That’s a REALLY nice dress, it looks great on you!” And elevator-eyed me.

Dude, did you skip an HR seminar or something? The last time anyone looked at me like that at work, he and I were screwing around in office closets.

I feel like a hypocrite, too, because I wouldn’t have minded the compliment on my dress coming from a man I was attracted to, or even a man I knew. The phrasing of his weight loss/diet comment was unacceptable from anyone, though — was I previously too much of a heifer to look good?

*sigh* I need another shower.

They don’t even MAKE music for how sexy I am.

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.

2. “The Thong Song,” while wearing llama-print hipster briefs.

3. “Hell on Heels,” flip flops.

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.

My office is my meat market.

I love walking past tall, attractive men at work and knowing that, particularly from their vantage point, my cleavage is on point today.

“Let me work it, put my thang down, flip it, and reverse it…”

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…”)

I hope it’s cool that you’ll have be naked for your interview.

Another on office attraction…

Um, no, YOU’RE taking a former coworker’s LinkedIn post looking for a new job as an opportunity to lure him and his giant hands into your office, OR just to give him your phone number.

Shut up.

I met him at my last job, shook his hand, and immediately wanted to have sex with him. He’s literally the only person I’ve known on sight I wanted to sleep with — normally it starts with, “I can work with your face and body” and gets more/less intense with conversation. This guy, I don’t even care if he has a personality, as long as those hands do things to me.

This may or may not be influenced by the fact that my libido has been on absolute CRACK for the past 5 days. I think I need an actual person, one with weight, so he can, um…get the job done correctly. Silicone’s just not working for me anymore. 

I don’t THINK he’s married, but it’s been about 18 months since I’ve seen him, so who knows. He has my number now, though, so he can do with it, and me, whatever he wants.

You bettah WORK!

A new boy started working at my office today. I was perhaps going to set about seeing him naked. But I Facebook stalked him, and he’s engaged.

*sigh*

You know, I’m really wasting pretty here. Can we please hire someone who can bend me over my desk after hours?

Deer Park, that’s a delicious man!

Email to a friend: “I took my cleavage down to the cafeteria and smiled at my man-child crush who runs the register. He sold me a bottle of water, which is fitting because he makes me wet. Hopefully soon he’ll also make me thirsty.”

An underappreciated man feature

I just met a man at my office and, in shaking his hand, realized it’s the largest man hand I’ve ever touched.

Dude, are you married? Let’s be friends. Friends who touch each other.

My 3-step program for improving office morale.

I get the biggest crushes on guys who work in my office cafeterias. I think it has something to do with them being bringers of snacks and coffee. My office environment downfall is hot guys near my food and caffeine. It’s like a stimulus trifecta: man; coffee; food. All things nibble-able and drinkable within a small radius.

And hey, this new guy is 8 years younger than I am, which means I AM a bawdy old lady, but I’m NOT literally old enough to be his mom. I am, however, young enough to finish him like a cheesecake.

C’mon, summer, hurry up — I work better in sundresses.

That Old Spice guy was on to something…

Perks of working on NYE: I can see how a guy is objectively attractive but not really be attracted TO him. But holy shit, there’s a man in my office who smells AMAZING, and now I wanna be all up in his bodyspace.

I think he’s gay, and I might weigh more than he does, but whatever. I don’t discriminate.

Gentlemen, never underestimate smelling good. I don’t even know the guy and I want to nibble his neck. (I may also be hormonal and bored and sexually pent up. But I think the logic holds.)