My somewhat eventful evening with PWG and my now departed manager Kate has had a few repercussions.
Last week, PWG left the organisation I work for. I was quite pleased about this. With him gone, the chances of people finding out about us lessens considerably and the chances of me being known as the office slut lessens as well. Bonus.
As tradition dictates, someone leaving work means work leaving drinks. At his, me being the nosey person I am, I asked what happened between him and Kate - in a joking way, more to tease than actually get information. He declined to comment which was fair enough. At around 7.30 drinks came to a close. I thought this was a little odd, I had banked on a longer evening than that. (Although it was probably for the best as I'd had four drinks on an empty stomach and when I got home I sang at my roommate, talked to him for about 2 hours straight and then suddenly fell asleep on the sofa.) He said that he wasn't feeling well so that was that.
Fast forward to me at home (singing to my roommate). I text PWG to say I was disappointed by the drinks. He replied saying that he was too, but he really wasn't feeling well - and he went into quite a bit of detail. At that exact second I get a text from Kate:
"I hear you've been digging around for details."
Huh. They'd been talking (or texting). In my reply to PWG's text I said that Kate had just text me, thanks for telling her I'd been asking for details. Then I text Kate saying:
"Oops - sorry! Was just being silly."
Her response?
"Well I'm sitting right across from him so I'll know if you ask him anything else."
Double huh. My response?
"Sounds too messy for me. Enjoy dinner. :)"
My next (somewhat drunken) text to PWG included various rants and I left it at that. But here's the thing, what I text to him, she then replied to. They were definitely talking about me. WTF?
Here were/are my issues with this:
1. He outright lied to me. I even specifically asked him if he was meeting a friend for dinner. He said no. I didn't need to know what friend. Not only did he lie to me, he invented a long explanatory lie. Yes, friends do occasionally lie to each other. I can get over this. I just don't understand why he lied.
2. She (as far as I'm aware) doesn't know about the two of us so why was she making a big deal about the two of them being out together? I don't care that they're seeing each other - in whatever capacity that may be.
3. The two of them were talking about me and texting me...while they were together. Firstly, how childish can you get? Secondly, don't they have anything better to be talking about?
After expressing a few of these above views to PWG, Kate text me, mentioning what I said in my text to PWG. Again reinforcing the fact that the two of them were discussing me. She sent me a long text, basically saying 'it wasn't what I thought.' What I thought was that they were both being ridiculous, she was making a really big deal about being with him, and I didn't understand why. I didn't reply.
PWG text me saying that he didn't understand why she said anything, he was mad at her and he'd text me the next day. He did. We're still friends. I know him and I know that most of this was her. I explained to him that if he felt awkward about telling me he was meeting her there was no need. I'm with TWH and neither of them work with me anymore so it doesn't bother me in the slightest.
Admittedly, a lot of this was caused by drunken texts. However, what bothers me is how I thought this girl was normal and now it appears she's a little strange, childish and a bit of a show-off. She also caused me and PWG to fall out because of her need to tell me the two of them were together. I can't believe I agonised over The Code. Screw The Code.
Showing posts with label Posh Work Guy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Posh Work Guy. Show all posts
Monday, April 18, 2011
Sunday, April 10, 2011
The Code
It's been awhile, thankfully a very long while. However, it's time to discuss Posh Work Guy again. Sorry.
The two of us have remained friends since our WTF? night many months ago. He was off work sick for a few months, I think that helped. Since he's been back I noticed that he stopped talking to me for a bit. Then he appeared to be flirting with me so I told him about me and The White Horse so then we went back to not talking. This suited me fine as I live in fear of the day when someone finds out about us, I get crowned the Office Slut and TWH severely questions my sanity. I took it upon myself to quash the latter point by telling TWH and me and PWG. I explained that this doesn't mean that we have to disclose all our past relationships / hook ups / serious mistakes, but, as he knows PWG and works for the same organisation as me I would rather him hear it from me then hear it from someone else. He took it well so I felt better.
Fast forward to last Friday night and PWG and I were at some one's leaving drinks - my manager's to be precise. I'd recently discovered that he is also leaving in a couple weeks and silently rejoiced about this. The two of us used this opportunity to clear the air as to why he hasn't really been speaking to me. (Someone asked him about us. He thought I had told. Which of course I had, I can't help it, I'm a talker. As soon as he said who had asked him about us I knew who had blabbed. I feel I gave a Golden Globe winning performance covering up the fact that I had told and convinced him that someone had seen us flirting at drinks many moons ago. Meryl Streep eat your heart out). Anyway, the night was going well.
Then, my recently departed (drunken) manager announced that we should go to a bar near Notting Hill. I drunkenly agreed, so me, my manager (Kate), her friend and PWG got in a cab and away we went. I thought it was weird that PWG was being so sociable until I thought back to earlier that afternoon when he was flirting so much with Kate that you could practically see the drool coming out his mouth. Once we arrived at our destination I quickly sobered up and realised that a.) I don't live anywhere near Notting Hill and b.) the tubes were probably just about to stop running.
I need to interject here and explain a little bit about London transport. It's expensive. If you want a night out in London you need to either:
a.) go out close enough to home that you won't have to shell out a fortune for a taxi
b.) go out and not get that drunk so that you can remember what time the tubes stop running (about 20 minutes after midnight) and leave on time
c.) have a friend's couch to crash on
d.) be rich enough to afford a taxi
e.) brave the night bus (a dreaded invention which runs all night but takes absolutely forever and is scary and full of drunk people. I know someone who was on a night bus and saw someone get stabbed).
The options that were open to me at this point were C and E. E wasn't going to happen. And C involved crashing on PWG's couch. Dilemma. I text TWH and explained my situation. I said that I would understand if he didn't want me staying there but I wanted to let him know. He replied that he wanted me to be safe but that ideally he didn't want me to stay there. Fair enough. If you're wondering why I asked TWH, I talk. He'd find out, he may not be happy.
Anyway...to cut a long story short Kate and I ended up back at PWG so he could call us a cab as we live in similar areas of London. This was at about 3am. I wanted to go home, she didn't. She kept saying that we would call a cab but that never happened. They started drinking again and I dozed on the couch. Then the flirting began. Can anyone say awkward? She told ridiculous stories to try and impress him, I inwardly cringed. I contemplated getting a taxi except my phone battery was very close to dying (it was at that taunting stage where it was still working but if I sent one text message it would die) and I was nervous about getting a cab home alone.
She was getting more and more flirty, I was getting more and more uncomfortable. It got to 5.20am and I ordered a cab. She walked me downstairs where I was in a serious dilemma. Isn't there a code? A code that says that girls should tell their friends that they have slept with a guy their friend is contemplating sleeping with? And most importantly, that the sex will be crap? Surely that's a friend's duty? I decided against it as PWG would've killed me, and I've told enough people as it is. I survived my solo cab ride home, slept for 2 hours and then caught a train to my parents'. I made it just in time for my eye appointment where I discovered that having your eyes poked and prodded after 2 hours sleep is not an enjoyable experience.
As for what did happen between Kate and PWG, I'm in the dark on that one. Thankfully.
The two of us have remained friends since our WTF? night many months ago. He was off work sick for a few months, I think that helped. Since he's been back I noticed that he stopped talking to me for a bit. Then he appeared to be flirting with me so I told him about me and The White Horse so then we went back to not talking. This suited me fine as I live in fear of the day when someone finds out about us, I get crowned the Office Slut and TWH severely questions my sanity. I took it upon myself to quash the latter point by telling TWH and me and PWG. I explained that this doesn't mean that we have to disclose all our past relationships / hook ups / serious mistakes, but, as he knows PWG and works for the same organisation as me I would rather him hear it from me then hear it from someone else. He took it well so I felt better.
Fast forward to last Friday night and PWG and I were at some one's leaving drinks - my manager's to be precise. I'd recently discovered that he is also leaving in a couple weeks and silently rejoiced about this. The two of us used this opportunity to clear the air as to why he hasn't really been speaking to me. (Someone asked him about us. He thought I had told. Which of course I had, I can't help it, I'm a talker. As soon as he said who had asked him about us I knew who had blabbed. I feel I gave a Golden Globe winning performance covering up the fact that I had told and convinced him that someone had seen us flirting at drinks many moons ago. Meryl Streep eat your heart out). Anyway, the night was going well.
Then, my recently departed (drunken) manager announced that we should go to a bar near Notting Hill. I drunkenly agreed, so me, my manager (Kate), her friend and PWG got in a cab and away we went. I thought it was weird that PWG was being so sociable until I thought back to earlier that afternoon when he was flirting so much with Kate that you could practically see the drool coming out his mouth. Once we arrived at our destination I quickly sobered up and realised that a.) I don't live anywhere near Notting Hill and b.) the tubes were probably just about to stop running.
I need to interject here and explain a little bit about London transport. It's expensive. If you want a night out in London you need to either:
a.) go out close enough to home that you won't have to shell out a fortune for a taxi
b.) go out and not get that drunk so that you can remember what time the tubes stop running (about 20 minutes after midnight) and leave on time
c.) have a friend's couch to crash on
d.) be rich enough to afford a taxi
e.) brave the night bus (a dreaded invention which runs all night but takes absolutely forever and is scary and full of drunk people. I know someone who was on a night bus and saw someone get stabbed).
The options that were open to me at this point were C and E. E wasn't going to happen. And C involved crashing on PWG's couch. Dilemma. I text TWH and explained my situation. I said that I would understand if he didn't want me staying there but I wanted to let him know. He replied that he wanted me to be safe but that ideally he didn't want me to stay there. Fair enough. If you're wondering why I asked TWH, I talk. He'd find out, he may not be happy.
Anyway...to cut a long story short Kate and I ended up back at PWG so he could call us a cab as we live in similar areas of London. This was at about 3am. I wanted to go home, she didn't. She kept saying that we would call a cab but that never happened. They started drinking again and I dozed on the couch. Then the flirting began. Can anyone say awkward? She told ridiculous stories to try and impress him, I inwardly cringed. I contemplated getting a taxi except my phone battery was very close to dying (it was at that taunting stage where it was still working but if I sent one text message it would die) and I was nervous about getting a cab home alone.
She was getting more and more flirty, I was getting more and more uncomfortable. It got to 5.20am and I ordered a cab. She walked me downstairs where I was in a serious dilemma. Isn't there a code? A code that says that girls should tell their friends that they have slept with a guy their friend is contemplating sleeping with? And most importantly, that the sex will be crap? Surely that's a friend's duty? I decided against it as PWG would've killed me, and I've told enough people as it is. I survived my solo cab ride home, slept for 2 hours and then caught a train to my parents'. I made it just in time for my eye appointment where I discovered that having your eyes poked and prodded after 2 hours sleep is not an enjoyable experience.
As for what did happen between Kate and PWG, I'm in the dark on that one. Thankfully.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Confession Time?
I'm in a little bit of a dilemma.
Things with the White Horse are still going really well, and after my mini freak out wondering if we needed to have The (Mini) Conversation I am doing very well at just enjoying how things are going and not rushing into anything and just generally having fun. This is indeed progress, especially after Fergus.
People at work still don't know but it may come out eventually which wouldn't be a bad thing because we work in separate offices and most people that I work with don't actually know who he is - and it would save me having to think before I speak when talking about what I did at the weekend / in the evenings. It's mentally exhausting. Especially on a Monday morning.
However, my dilemma is - PWG. Don't worry, things with PWG that went beyond friendship are well and truly in the past, I'm not going there again! My dilemma is: do I tell the White Horse about PWG? You may think I'm crazy for even considering this - after all, we are not obliged to divulge information about our past...conquests? The thing is, he knows PWG and my fear is that he'll find out (I don't know how exactly, only one person knows and they won't say anything, and PWG isn't going to say anything) but what if he does and I haven't told him? Would that be bad?
Violet has said she thinks I don't need to tell him as he won't find out, and like always, she's probably right. There's just a little bit of me that thinks I should just tell him. But then he'd know that he's not the first guy from work I've hooked up with. Dilemma.
Thoughts?
Things with the White Horse are still going really well, and after my mini freak out wondering if we needed to have The (Mini) Conversation I am doing very well at just enjoying how things are going and not rushing into anything and just generally having fun. This is indeed progress, especially after Fergus.
People at work still don't know but it may come out eventually which wouldn't be a bad thing because we work in separate offices and most people that I work with don't actually know who he is - and it would save me having to think before I speak when talking about what I did at the weekend / in the evenings. It's mentally exhausting. Especially on a Monday morning.
However, my dilemma is - PWG. Don't worry, things with PWG that went beyond friendship are well and truly in the past, I'm not going there again! My dilemma is: do I tell the White Horse about PWG? You may think I'm crazy for even considering this - after all, we are not obliged to divulge information about our past...conquests? The thing is, he knows PWG and my fear is that he'll find out (I don't know how exactly, only one person knows and they won't say anything, and PWG isn't going to say anything) but what if he does and I haven't told him? Would that be bad?
Violet has said she thinks I don't need to tell him as he won't find out, and like always, she's probably right. There's just a little bit of me that thinks I should just tell him. But then he'd know that he's not the first guy from work I've hooked up with. Dilemma.
Thoughts?
Sunday, May 16, 2010
WTF? Seriously, WTF?
The MTV Movie Awards have a "Best WTF Moment" category. Well MTV, I will see your nominations like the naked trunk surprise in The Hangover and raise you with this: My Friday Night.
Last Tuesday I got horrifically drunk at a work thing. (Don't drink on a school night ladies). Posh Work Guy and I had a discussion that night. A discussion that concluded with us agreeing that on Friday night we'd both be getting some action. With each other. But you all got that.
Thursday night I did a bit of sexfoliation- made even more difficult knowing that I had to go to work beforehand. Showed up at work on Friday and guess who wasn't in the office? He sometimes shows up later in the day because he has meetings so I wasn't too concerned but by one 1pm there was no still no sign. Knowing that I wasn't going to get much done unless I found out where he was and if I was going to get some, I text him. Turns out he was working from home. However, although I thought this meant my sexfoliation was a waste of time, the conversation turned to our 'arrangement'. We ended up having the same conversation we had on Tuesday. Just sober and via text message. It lasted a good 3 hours. Finally I said could we not just meet and discuss this because my head was hurting and I needed to do some work.
We agreed to meet at a pub near his. We met, we drank a bit, we chatted. A guy from work came into the pub and we made a hasty getaway. We went back to his where we cuddled on the couch watching TV. The conversation turned to our flurry of text messages that afternoon. Conclusion? We're friends now and we'll be friends afterwards. Fine. After that, things finally got moving.
And then, well, I'm confused. Things happened, my dry spell came to an end, but it wasn't well, good. Afterwards, he got up to go to the bathroom. When he came back, he was dressed. He asked if I wanted my clothes. Um, what? Well not really, but I figured I should probably get them. We went back in the living room and watched the news (yes, that's right, the news). I was thinking things were awkward. They were about to get a lot worse...
PWG: Sorry but I can't drive you home tomorrow.
(That was fine, having someone drive you around in London is a luxury and I knew he had to do some mechanical thingy to his car.)
Me: No problem. I'll get the tube.
PWG: And you won't be able to sleep in because I have to get up really early to get things done.
Me (half-jokingly): I can just leave now if you want.
Pause.
PWG: If you do then you can wake up tomorrow and know you don't have to go anywhere, won't that be nice?
Pause.
Me: Um, ok, I'll just finish my drink.
WTF?
By this point I didn't want to be there anymore and I didn't get what was going on. At all. I finished my drink and got my stuff together. When he opened the door to his apartment I suddenly clicked that he wasn't going to walk me to the tube station. I had only been to his twice before and had never gotten the tube. I only vaguely knew where the station was. I had to ask him for directions. And he still didn't walk me. He did ask me to text him when I got home. How chivalrous.
So there I am, walking in an area of London I don't know at all, in the cold, at 10.30 on a Friday night. I felt like a cheap call girl. I got home and emailed Vi and cursed the fact that we live in different continents, on different time zones and neither of us is rich enough to be able to afford transatlantic phone bills. Oh and I did text him simply saying: "I'm home." He replied saying have a nice weekend.
Have a nice weekend? If having a nice weekend involves being extremely upset and angry and convinced that I'm bad in bed well then I'm having a marvelous time.
Please, someone, tell me what the hell happened. It was all agreed, all cards on the table. This was going to be a bit of fun. Nothing was going to change. It's possible, look at Vi and the Dark Horse. Now I have to see him at work tomorrow. I want to yell at him, for not walking me to the station if nothing else, but I can't because I have to act like nothing has changed between us, all is fine, as we agreed.
Well all is not fine. And I did not agree to him treating me like this. And I'm really angry.
Fenella's Friday Night = Winner. Best WTF moment.
Grayer's night with KK's roomie = A very, very close second.
Vi getting dumped by the Dark Horse while she was in her underwear. Twice = Joint very close second.
We need to stop having these moments.
Last Tuesday I got horrifically drunk at a work thing. (Don't drink on a school night ladies). Posh Work Guy and I had a discussion that night. A discussion that concluded with us agreeing that on Friday night we'd both be getting some action. With each other. But you all got that.
Thursday night I did a bit of sexfoliation- made even more difficult knowing that I had to go to work beforehand. Showed up at work on Friday and guess who wasn't in the office? He sometimes shows up later in the day because he has meetings so I wasn't too concerned but by one 1pm there was no still no sign. Knowing that I wasn't going to get much done unless I found out where he was and if I was going to get some, I text him. Turns out he was working from home. However, although I thought this meant my sexfoliation was a waste of time, the conversation turned to our 'arrangement'. We ended up having the same conversation we had on Tuesday. Just sober and via text message. It lasted a good 3 hours. Finally I said could we not just meet and discuss this because my head was hurting and I needed to do some work.
We agreed to meet at a pub near his. We met, we drank a bit, we chatted. A guy from work came into the pub and we made a hasty getaway. We went back to his where we cuddled on the couch watching TV. The conversation turned to our flurry of text messages that afternoon. Conclusion? We're friends now and we'll be friends afterwards. Fine. After that, things finally got moving.
And then, well, I'm confused. Things happened, my dry spell came to an end, but it wasn't well, good. Afterwards, he got up to go to the bathroom. When he came back, he was dressed. He asked if I wanted my clothes. Um, what? Well not really, but I figured I should probably get them. We went back in the living room and watched the news (yes, that's right, the news). I was thinking things were awkward. They were about to get a lot worse...
PWG: Sorry but I can't drive you home tomorrow.
(That was fine, having someone drive you around in London is a luxury and I knew he had to do some mechanical thingy to his car.)
Me: No problem. I'll get the tube.
PWG: And you won't be able to sleep in because I have to get up really early to get things done.
Me (half-jokingly): I can just leave now if you want.
Pause.
PWG: If you do then you can wake up tomorrow and know you don't have to go anywhere, won't that be nice?
Pause.
Me: Um, ok, I'll just finish my drink.
WTF?
By this point I didn't want to be there anymore and I didn't get what was going on. At all. I finished my drink and got my stuff together. When he opened the door to his apartment I suddenly clicked that he wasn't going to walk me to the tube station. I had only been to his twice before and had never gotten the tube. I only vaguely knew where the station was. I had to ask him for directions. And he still didn't walk me. He did ask me to text him when I got home. How chivalrous.
So there I am, walking in an area of London I don't know at all, in the cold, at 10.30 on a Friday night. I felt like a cheap call girl. I got home and emailed Vi and cursed the fact that we live in different continents, on different time zones and neither of us is rich enough to be able to afford transatlantic phone bills. Oh and I did text him simply saying: "I'm home." He replied saying have a nice weekend.
Have a nice weekend? If having a nice weekend involves being extremely upset and angry and convinced that I'm bad in bed well then I'm having a marvelous time.
Please, someone, tell me what the hell happened. It was all agreed, all cards on the table. This was going to be a bit of fun. Nothing was going to change. It's possible, look at Vi and the Dark Horse. Now I have to see him at work tomorrow. I want to yell at him, for not walking me to the station if nothing else, but I can't because I have to act like nothing has changed between us, all is fine, as we agreed.
Well all is not fine. And I did not agree to him treating me like this. And I'm really angry.
Fenella's Friday Night = Winner. Best WTF moment.
Grayer's night with KK's roomie = A very, very close second.
Vi getting dumped by the Dark Horse while she was in her underwear. Twice = Joint very close second.
We need to stop having these moments.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Operation Papa Smurf
Back in the days before Vi has her Potential Actual Boyfriend / Actual Boyfriend / whatever his title is right now, she was on the lookout for a new booty call. As I was visiting her in the near future I decided, being the amazing friend that I am, that I would help her out with finding a new man to satisfy all her needs and desires. We named it Operation Papa Smurf. Why Operation Papa Smurf? Why not!
However, now that Vi has her Potential Actual Boyfriend / Actual Boyfriend / whatever his title is right now, Operation Papa Smurf has been put on the shelf to gather dust. This has to change, a plan with such a great name has to be put to good use. Enter Fen.
Ever since that random evening with Posh Work Guy he's been on my mind. A lot. Reassuringly, for my sanity, I haven't been thinking about him because I like him but because it's been awhile since I've had any action. And before anyone starts mentioning my sleepovers with McNerdy and indeed PWG a few weeks ago allow me to clarify: there's action and then there's action. Normally, going long periods of time without action doesn't bother me. Except something has snapped and I have now decided that I need action. Enter Posh Work Guy.
My problem is deciphering whether PWG is willing to be my booty call. I have to tread carefully here because I work with him and thus see him everyday. So embarrassing myself would be extra embarrassing. This means drunk texts are a no go area. And while having a similar "I shaved my legs for this" incident like Vi did would get the point across, if it went wrong I'd have to see him the next day. Tricky. I did take control of the situation by inviting him out for drinks on Friday which he had to decline but had a genuine reason and said that we should definitely reschedule, this seems like a good sign. My next plan is to see what happens next week, we have someone's leaving drinks after work. A little bit of alcohol always helps right?
Let Operation Papa Smurf commence!
However, now that Vi has her Potential Actual Boyfriend / Actual Boyfriend / whatever his title is right now, Operation Papa Smurf has been put on the shelf to gather dust. This has to change, a plan with such a great name has to be put to good use. Enter Fen.
Ever since that random evening with Posh Work Guy he's been on my mind. A lot. Reassuringly, for my sanity, I haven't been thinking about him because I like him but because it's been awhile since I've had any action. And before anyone starts mentioning my sleepovers with McNerdy and indeed PWG a few weeks ago allow me to clarify: there's action and then there's action. Normally, going long periods of time without action doesn't bother me. Except something has snapped and I have now decided that I need action. Enter Posh Work Guy.
My problem is deciphering whether PWG is willing to be my booty call. I have to tread carefully here because I work with him and thus see him everyday. So embarrassing myself would be extra embarrassing. This means drunk texts are a no go area. And while having a similar "I shaved my legs for this" incident like Vi did would get the point across, if it went wrong I'd have to see him the next day. Tricky. I did take control of the situation by inviting him out for drinks on Friday which he had to decline but had a genuine reason and said that we should definitely reschedule, this seems like a good sign. My next plan is to see what happens next week, we have someone's leaving drinks after work. A little bit of alcohol always helps right?
Let Operation Papa Smurf commence!
Thursday, April 29, 2010
The Green Eyed Monster
I'm sick. Again. I totally blame Fergus for this. He was the one who suggested we go to India last summer. After getting sick over there I really don't think my immune system has ever fully recovered. Still, being off work means that I can concentrate on more important things, like trashy magazines and thinking about my next blog entry.
As well as some weird stomach virus I am also suffering from that old friend, the green eyed monster. It's been almost a week since my interesting evening with Posh Work Guy. Thankfully Monday morning in the office wasn't awkward at all. The emails at work have continued. He was also very nice to me Tuesday evening when I left work in tears (stupid work issue, not worth elaborating on). He took me for drinks, made me laugh and generally cheered me up. Don't worry ladies, I went home by myself.
So really, all should be well. I had some fun on Friday, nothing has changed between us and no one at work suspects anything. Dear God I hope no one suspects anything! Plus, I don't like him in that way. Would I perhaps like a repeat of Friday night at some point? Why yes please. But I am only female. And his apartment is amazing.
However, there is one small problem, Emily. The girl at work who he used to have a bit of a thing for. The girl that every guy loves. The girl that whenever I see her and PWG talking I get a little twinge of jealously. The girl that doesn't know about me and PWG so informed me that he asked her to some polo thingy. (Clearly, he wouldn't ask me, I know diddly-squat about polo. And I have a life).
My problem is, just because I don't like him doesn't mean I want him to like her. Or her to possibly like him (you never know, she might). I'm quite happy being the only one in the office he's hooked up with. So until I get over this, the green eyed monster and I are firm friends. Seriously, I. Need. A. Monica.
As well as some weird stomach virus I am also suffering from that old friend, the green eyed monster. It's been almost a week since my interesting evening with Posh Work Guy. Thankfully Monday morning in the office wasn't awkward at all. The emails at work have continued. He was also very nice to me Tuesday evening when I left work in tears (stupid work issue, not worth elaborating on). He took me for drinks, made me laugh and generally cheered me up. Don't worry ladies, I went home by myself.
So really, all should be well. I had some fun on Friday, nothing has changed between us and no one at work suspects anything. Dear God I hope no one suspects anything! Plus, I don't like him in that way. Would I perhaps like a repeat of Friday night at some point? Why yes please. But I am only female. And his apartment is amazing.
However, there is one small problem, Emily. The girl at work who he used to have a bit of a thing for. The girl that every guy loves. The girl that whenever I see her and PWG talking I get a little twinge of jealously. The girl that doesn't know about me and PWG so informed me that he asked her to some polo thingy. (Clearly, he wouldn't ask me, I know diddly-squat about polo. And I have a life).
My problem is, just because I don't like him doesn't mean I want him to like her. Or her to possibly like him (you never know, she might). I'm quite happy being the only one in the office he's hooked up with. So until I get over this, the green eyed monster and I are firm friends. Seriously, I. Need. A. Monica.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
When Friday nights go bad
I am of the belief that you can relate most situations in life to something that happened in 'Friends'. I'm sure someone this very moment is doing a thesis to prove this very idea. Remember when Rachel puts Monica in charge of her love life? Rachel has to do whatever Monica says. I'm Rachel. I need a Monica. As I am in no position to be making these types of decisions by myself.
It all began back when I started my job. My office is hardly brimming with good looking, single, funny men. Which was kind of a relief, office romances are messy after all. However, there was once guy who intrigued me. Vi and I call him Posh Work Guy. Posh Work Guy is like no guy I have ever met before, and not really in a good way. He's posh and as I mentioned before, I'm not a fan of posh British guys. He has slight OCD and an obsession with using hand sanitiser. He's so ridiculously well-dressed people wonder if he's gay. And he's just not my type. At all.
He also keeps himself to himself. Barely anyone in the office knows anything about him. I only really got chatting to him a couple of months ago when we were all at the pub. After chatting to him for well over 20 minutes I heard him mutter to someone else: "Is her name Fenella?" Huh. Charming. A couple weeks later we were at the pub again (leaving drinks, a lot of people have left) and he got chatting to me and my friend from work, Emily. Now Emily and Posh Work Guy are more on the same wavelength 'posh wise' then I am. So they got on quite well. I actually knew beforehand that PWG had a bit of a thing for Emily, which I mocked him for. (He also was in a relationship at the time). A couple days later PWG asks if Emily and I want to go out with him that night to this club which is for members only. I couldn't go because I had a date but I ended up meeting them later. It was one of the most random nights in London I've had so far, but in a good way.
So Emily and I somehow slipped through these walls he puts up to other people at work. Apparently we should feel privileged. He made an attempt to ask Emily to dinner but got the hint that she wasn't interested. Meanwhile, he and I email all the time at work. He says that I keep him from going crazy with boredom. I just like getting non-work related emails. He says that Emily is cold, I'm friendly. Earlier this week he suggested we go for drinks after work on Friday. I agreed because I'm broke from my trip to visit Vi and he's not. Plus, as quirky and strange as he is, he's fun to hang around with. The evening started out perfectly innocent and normal. We drank, we chatted, we devised a plan to get the 34 year old guy we work with who still lives with his parents, laid (he really needs it). It was fun. We decided to go on to the club we went to before. The evening turned slightly sour when I realised that my wallet had been taken from my bag. It had been handed in at the bar, minus all my cash.
Even when we were at the club I never thought anything was going to happen. But I'm sure you all guessed where this is going. One moment we're chatting, the next, we're kissing. We went back to his place where after some fooling around I said:
"Well I think that's our friendship ruined."
He said:
"Eh, we weren't that close anyway."
IT'S FROM FRIENDS!!
This morning didn't result in any weird awkwardness, in fact, it was much the same as the night before. We did have the whole discussion about telling people at work. Which neither of us have any plans to do. I personally would never live it down because of the reputation he has. He just wants to protect his privacy. He drove me home (no small thing considering he lives in north London, I live in the south). And that was that. He text me a few hours ago, I replied.
It's safe to say that I now feel like a bit of an idiot. This was such a bad idea. Not 24 hours before all this happened I emailed Vi saying that I was staying away from guys for awhile why I learn or attempt to learn, not to fall so hard so fast. I was serious about it. I also blogged about my loss of mojo. Well that's out the window because I found it last night. All of this with a guy who is so not my type, is slightly shorter than me, at one point liked my friend, has a complicated situation with his ex and who I actually have no interest in at all. Oh and let us not forget...we work together.
Now accepting applications for the post of Monica.
It all began back when I started my job. My office is hardly brimming with good looking, single, funny men. Which was kind of a relief, office romances are messy after all. However, there was once guy who intrigued me. Vi and I call him Posh Work Guy. Posh Work Guy is like no guy I have ever met before, and not really in a good way. He's posh and as I mentioned before, I'm not a fan of posh British guys. He has slight OCD and an obsession with using hand sanitiser. He's so ridiculously well-dressed people wonder if he's gay. And he's just not my type. At all.
He also keeps himself to himself. Barely anyone in the office knows anything about him. I only really got chatting to him a couple of months ago when we were all at the pub. After chatting to him for well over 20 minutes I heard him mutter to someone else: "Is her name Fenella?" Huh. Charming. A couple weeks later we were at the pub again (leaving drinks, a lot of people have left) and he got chatting to me and my friend from work, Emily. Now Emily and Posh Work Guy are more on the same wavelength 'posh wise' then I am. So they got on quite well. I actually knew beforehand that PWG had a bit of a thing for Emily, which I mocked him for. (He also was in a relationship at the time). A couple days later PWG asks if Emily and I want to go out with him that night to this club which is for members only. I couldn't go because I had a date but I ended up meeting them later. It was one of the most random nights in London I've had so far, but in a good way.
So Emily and I somehow slipped through these walls he puts up to other people at work. Apparently we should feel privileged. He made an attempt to ask Emily to dinner but got the hint that she wasn't interested. Meanwhile, he and I email all the time at work. He says that I keep him from going crazy with boredom. I just like getting non-work related emails. He says that Emily is cold, I'm friendly. Earlier this week he suggested we go for drinks after work on Friday. I agreed because I'm broke from my trip to visit Vi and he's not. Plus, as quirky and strange as he is, he's fun to hang around with. The evening started out perfectly innocent and normal. We drank, we chatted, we devised a plan to get the 34 year old guy we work with who still lives with his parents, laid (he really needs it). It was fun. We decided to go on to the club we went to before. The evening turned slightly sour when I realised that my wallet had been taken from my bag. It had been handed in at the bar, minus all my cash.
Even when we were at the club I never thought anything was going to happen. But I'm sure you all guessed where this is going. One moment we're chatting, the next, we're kissing. We went back to his place where after some fooling around I said:
"Well I think that's our friendship ruined."
He said:
"Eh, we weren't that close anyway."
IT'S FROM FRIENDS!!
This morning didn't result in any weird awkwardness, in fact, it was much the same as the night before. We did have the whole discussion about telling people at work. Which neither of us have any plans to do. I personally would never live it down because of the reputation he has. He just wants to protect his privacy. He drove me home (no small thing considering he lives in north London, I live in the south). And that was that. He text me a few hours ago, I replied.
It's safe to say that I now feel like a bit of an idiot. This was such a bad idea. Not 24 hours before all this happened I emailed Vi saying that I was staying away from guys for awhile why I learn or attempt to learn, not to fall so hard so fast. I was serious about it. I also blogged about my loss of mojo. Well that's out the window because I found it last night. All of this with a guy who is so not my type, is slightly shorter than me, at one point liked my friend, has a complicated situation with his ex and who I actually have no interest in at all. Oh and let us not forget...we work together.
Now accepting applications for the post of Monica.
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