hollygonightly: I’m having an office romance. I’ve never done this before, but today seemed like a good day to start. Judging by the number of co-workers in my place of business who are married, dating, previously dating or previously married, I’ve determined this number to be about 1 in 10. To my knowledge, HR has no stipulations against this type of behavior (the general status of the interoffice romance, not the potentially illicit activities going on in the mail room with tape guns and three-hole punchers after hours) so I can’t cross reference a check list to determine if my courtship counts, but I’m here to announce that I publicly squeezed my boyfriend’s bottom outside a conference room in my building this afternoon. I guess I should clarify: he doesn’t actually work here.  He was just on campus for the day tending to some clients, so I suppose the whole thing is less tawdry and clandestine  than what I envisioned my first office romance would be like. We usually work across town from each other, so we’ve never had the opportunity sit at opposing ends of the boardroom and perfect our own unique version of Morris code with pencil taps and excessive blinking.  He never memorized my sandwich order and I never spent hours rehearsing creative salutations for hallway banter.  We’ve never spent late nights in the office finalizing PowerPoint presentations in the half dark under the unflattering glow of noisy, flickering halogen bulbs.  We’ve never caught a co-worker looking at us like Roger looks at Joan, knowingly and wantonly. Instead we met at an early morning seminar years and months ago. I remember walking there in boots and a scarf and nearly broke my neck on a patch of ice halfway there.  I considered turning around and going back to bed, but I genuinely wanted to hear the speaker.  And so I arrived early enough (albeit wet and with a sore neck) to get a good seat, but late enough to avoid the business-card toting job seekers (i.e. networkers) who always seem to position themselves right in front of the toaster station I need to access. I sat alone in the back, probably writing a grocery list, while he prepared the microphone for the keynote speaker.  We never actually talked that day.  On the way out, I recognized him and immediately put my head down and did that social tourrets thing for which I’m semi-famous and slid past him muttering something about 8am being too early for listening and networking and such.  We never shook hands and we never said hello, because he was just a handsome stranger back then who belonged to someone else. Maybe office romance is over-rated or maybe it’s outdated.  Either way, Newsweek claims it’s the latest casualty of the recession so you might as well test it out before it’s too late. This is so ace. 

hollygonightly:

I’m having an office romance.

I’ve never done this before, but today seemed like a good day to start.

Judging by the number of co-workers in my place of business who are married, dating, previously dating or previously married, I’ve determined this number to be about 1 in 10.

To my knowledge, HR has no stipulations against this type of behavior (the general status of the interoffice romance, not the potentially illicit activities going on in the mail room with tape guns and three-hole punchers after hours) so I can’t cross reference a check list to determine if my courtship counts, but I’m here to announce that I publicly squeezed my boyfriend’s bottom outside a conference room in my building this afternoon.

I guess I should clarify: he doesn’t actually work here.  He was just on campus for the day tending to some clients, so I suppose the whole thing is less tawdry and clandestine  than what I envisioned my first office romance would be like.

We usually work across town from each other, so we’ve never had the opportunity sit at opposing ends of the boardroom and perfect our own unique version of Morris code with pencil taps and excessive blinking.  He never memorized my sandwich order and I never spent hours rehearsing creative salutations for hallway banter.  We’ve never spent late nights in the office finalizing PowerPoint presentations in the half dark under the unflattering glow of noisy, flickering halogen bulbs.  We’ve never caught a co-worker looking at us like Roger looks at Joan, knowingly and wantonly.

Instead we met at an early morning seminar years and months ago. I remember walking there in boots and a scarf and nearly broke my neck on a patch of ice halfway there.  I considered turning around and going back to bed, but I genuinely wanted to hear the speaker.  And so I arrived early enough (albeit wet and with a sore neck) to get a good seat, but late enough to avoid the business-card toting job seekers (i.e. networkers) who always seem to position themselves right in front of the toaster station I need to access.

I sat alone in the back, probably writing a grocery list, while he prepared the microphone for the keynote speaker.  We never actually talked that day.  On the way out, I recognized him and immediately put my head down and did that social tourrets thing for which I’m semi-famous and slid past him muttering something about 8am being too early for listening and networking and such.  We never shook hands and we never said hello, because he was just a handsome stranger back then who belonged to someone else.

Maybe office romance is over-rated or maybe it’s outdated.  Either way, Newsweek claims it’s the latest casualty of the recession so you might as well test it out before it’s too late.

This is so ace. 

hollygonightly

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  1. writes-no-poetry reblogged this from sincesheleft
  2. champagne-and-icecream said: i need you to quit your job and write a book of short stories. btw.
  3. sincesheleft reblogged this from hollygonightly
  4. scenes-from-my-hood said: a-dorable.
  5. hollygonightly posted this

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