Ok. So it wasn’t actually The Rock, but as close to it as I’m going to get. One of the technicians for a company we do business with is bald and burly and inked, and very The Rock-like. He’s hottttttttttttt.
The law of hot men visiting my workplace is that they only show up if I look like and/or feel like shit. Today was sort of both, post-Daisy’s-bday soiree. No one interesting ever shows up when I’m looking all put together, well moisturized, fresh smelling. Hotties come out of the woodwork when I’m recovering from neon green sinus infections or when I’m sweating yesterday’s Jager shots out of every pore…lovely.
Let me clarify: I’m not trolling the workplace for dates, ohhhhhhhhhhh no. No no no. But a little eye candy here and there just makes the day that much more bearable. I don’t care who you are, what your status is: a little cuteness makes the workday tolerable.
So anyway, I wasn’t expecting The Rock today; he only appears at my office a couple times a year as a fill-in guy for overflow work. I was expecting our regular technician, a funny good ol’ boy that I’ve been working with for about 7 years or so who is super smart, super efficient, really knows his stuff. When I rounded the corner and saw The Rock-alike waiting for me, I wanted to run back to my office, scrounge for some lipgloss, a breath mint, a hairbrush, a fresh shirt and possibly some deodorant. But it was too late, I’d been spotted and greeted and I put him about his task. And smelly creepy me went back to my duties, invisible to him in my grossness.
I had lunch with an office gal pal and she talked me back up, convinced me that I was hottttt all day every day, and to have some backbone in this matter. So as The Rock ended his day, he stopped by to have me sign off on his work as is the norm. And I engaged him in witty, zingy Kat banter as only I can, all relating to the project at hand, but still sassy. And he laughed and I laughed and oh, we laughed. And I tried to pry a little, nudge a little, to keep the conversation going after I’d signed the paperwork, and we were having a grand old time. I made The Rock blush. That made me blush. Oh, we were having the best time, and I was trying to decide how to carry on this conversation a little longer…and my assistant appeared out of nowhere and stepped between me and The Rock, bursting the bubble of fun immediately. All fun, all mirth and frivolity were sucked into another dimension as if they’d never existed. Sigh. And The Rock rolled on outta there and back into the real world.
I suppose the moral of the story is that I should eat TicTacs all day every day, moisturize once per hour, re-gloss every 15 minutes and keep a cocktail dress and heels in my desk drawer just in case…and doing all that should keep every hottie in a 50 mile radius from ever showing up at my office.