Office Romance 2: Love Hack And The B47s

Today is Monday.

She's been here for two weeks now, in the office down the corridoor, in the finance department.

I have seized every opportunity to talk to her. I have used every possible excuse, every unlikely pretext, afforded by luck, and by divine intervention, to see her.

And of course, I've hacked and sabotaged her computer, thus making myself completely indispensable.

I'm been here for over an hour now, pretending to work, bracing myself for her arrival. I know she's not in yet because her coat's not on the stand, and her bag's not beside her chair.

And because I can still breathe.

My addiction has reached such a level, that I actually look forward to coming into work. My colleagues find me uncharacteristically happy, full of initiative, bright eyed and enthusiastic. My boss probably thinks I'm having a nervous breakdown.

I'm sitting there, desk tidy for once, not a cookie crumb or coffee stain in sight, waiting for just a fleeting glimpse of her face as she walks past.

And asking myself...

Will she stop?
Will she come in?
Will she give me one of those smiles that light up the office, and my heart, like a thousand suns?

She'll be arriving any minute now.

I am focusing all my energy, trying to project the correct aura, somewhere between hardworking professional, and anticonformist beat poet.

She probably still sees that idiot with the Ice Cream Mars Bars.

And then it happens.

I sense a presence.
Intuitively, I know it is her.
I raise my eyes.

An apparition in summer pastels, gliding towards my desk.

My heart is racing.
I try to stay calm.
I try to wipe that impossible grin off my face.

And when our eyes finally meet, I just know, like an unsaid truth, that the eternal game has begun.

She pulls up a chair and turns to face me. We are so close now, I can see the faint, silky, golden down on her cheek.

I notice very subtle traces of makeup on her perfect, imperfect skin, her eyebrows shaped and sculpted, her vanilla scented shampoo mildly intoxicating.

I wonder, egocentric as I am, if any of this is for my benefit.

I lean in towards her, and in a hazy half-dream, I see nothing but her gently flowing hair, her delicate pink lips, and those light blue eyes that haunt my sleep.

She opens her mouth to speak.

The world shifts.

We are alone together, the last two lovers in this cold, barren universe, floating unattached in the infinite cosmos.

And I hear the sweetest, most heavenly voice...

"Listen, sunshine, you promised me that bloody spreadsheet with the B47s a week ago! Any chance I might actually see it this week?? Or this year even?? "

My heart skips a beat. Several, actually.

And I consider all that time spent, all that effort, all that charm, and all those sleepless nights...

And I say to myself...

"It's working. She called me sunshine."

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Will I finally make some headway?
What is the name of her shampoo?
What the hell is a B47?

These questions may, or may not, be answered in the next mildly interesting episode of my increasingly confused love life...

Stay tuned, dear readers...

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Episode 1 : Freeze Dried Instant Love

EP Link

waterlooSunset waterlooSunset
36-40, M
1 Response May 21, 2012

Yes, she really does ;)