There's no title that could sum up this post accurately
Oh, holy to god ever-lovin' hell. What in the world did I do to deserve this?
So a coworker of mine is leaving this evening. It's his last day and he's been visiting me for the past 15 minutes. I've been waiting for the inevitable conversation that I've been dreading ever since finding out he was being laid off 4 months ago. And finally -FINALLY!- he voices the dreaded words.
"Wanna go out?"
I stare at my computer screen wishing it had some secret teleport program in it and I could materialize myself in Timbuktu.
"I know I ask you this at least once a year, but I figured I've got one chance left so I might as well take it." He tries to chuckle to lighten the mood, but I know that he's sweating and hoping and dear god I knew this was coming but I wish it would just end quickly and painlessly.
I finally drag my eyes away from the screen, smile meekly and say, "Thank you, but no."
It's no big thing. I'm expecting this. I mean, the guy asked me out at least once a year for the past 8 fucking years! Do I really think he's gonna pass up this last chance?
Apparently, he's gonna give all he's got because he continues. "I gotta tell you: I'm a relatively smart guy, but whenever I see you, I just lose all intelligent thought. I no longer can think clearly. That's how much you affect me."
Okay. That's a new one. I do believe he just professed his love for me. As this is unexpected I say the first and easiest thing that pops in my head.
"Well, that's very flattering." Sheesh.
He's now sitting there rather awkwardly so I unmute the television and and turn back to my computer, trying to give some signal that this farewell really needs to start wrapping up, but he's just not taking the hint.
So because I'm just an evil masochist I get one last back rub from him. Hey, I know what you're thinking, but this chick loves a good back rub. Call it my weakness. Whatever gets me off the hook for twisting the dagger a little deeper. He starts on my shoulders as normal and squeezes the muscles there to the point of pain. I take a deep breath and immediately start to relax. Note to all future back massage-givers: Bitch likes it hard. No weak-ass tender shit for me. He moves to my lower back and again I feel the tension ease. Since he's given me massages for the past eight years he knows the exact spot at the base of my spine where - oh yeah. Relaxation City.
He goes through the normal routine and I know we're getting to the end when his hands suddenly move to my sides under my arms. I know where he's trying to go. He's toyed with going this route before and I go to give him the usual cock-block by squeezing my arms to my sides. Apparently, the dude is feeling a bit desperate because he keeps moving his hands forward. I take in a sharp breath when I feel his fingers brush the sides of my breasts. I quickly jerk my body forward out of his reach. Oh hell no he didn't!
He sighs and steps around my chair to return to his seat that he's strategically placed in front of the door, effectively barring my escape. I try to bore into the computer with my eyes because I've got a sinking suspiscion that the boy is probably now sporting some serious wood, and I've pretty much handled all the awkwardness I can take for the evening.
Of course, he doesn't think so because he decides to up the uncomfort level by about a hundredfold.
"Y'know, I know you're not into a relationship, but I wanted to let you know that I'm here for other things you might need. I mean, sometimes people just want companionship....on just a physical level."
Say wha'?
Did he say what I just think he said? He now wants to offer up some fuck-buddy services? Seriously?
You have got to be kidding me!
My mental bitch thinks "Thanks, but I've got that job handled pretty nicely thankyouverymuch."
Does he really think that even though I've turned down the millionth date offer, and I've not responded to his profession of love, that I'm honestly gonna just stand up and drop trow right here? Oh yeah 'cause that wouldn't be awkward at all. Is this really his plan? To try to convince me that he could fuck me into loving him?
At this point, I've pretty much run out of polite things I can say. I don't want to be rude to the motherfucker because, deep down, I feel a little sorry for him. So I resign myself to just looking up at him and giving a rueful smile. I ain't got anything else for him.
He sighs again and says, "Well, since I probably won't ever see you again, could I at least have a hug?" And since the guilt is getting to me I oblige, all the while thinking "Please don't try to grab my ass. Please don't try to grab my ass!" because if he does I'm belting him no matter how much pity I feel. I'm also hoping that he doesn't go for the whole body hug 'cause I just don't think I could handle being squeezed up against his hard-on.
He finally lets loose and I try not to scramble back to my seat while he looks at the floor a little pitifully. I'm about to break out a neon sign that flashes AWKWARD! AWKWARD! when he turns toward the door to leave.
"I guess I'll see you around," he mumbles.
"You too," is my eloquent reply.
And then, he's gone.
I breathe a sigh of relief and try to focus back on my work. Not 3 minutes later he's back. With a plastic Walmart bag in his hand.
"Here," he says while thrusting the object into my hands. "I got you a cake for your birthday since I missed it a few of weeks back." He quickly walks out the door again.
Motherfucker got me a cake. From Walmart. For my birthday. That was 2 weeks ago. And it feels like he's trying to now bribe me.
It's about that moment that I start banging my head against my desk...
