Musings of Me

Valentine's Day Dilemma

Valentines' Day is upon us, and the office in which I work has succumbed to the cheerful, rosy hues of red and pink. Every woman in the office is wearing a red or pink blouse. Even some of the men are in crisp red or pink dress shirts.

Despite all the attention to detail by my coworkers, I really doubt anyone is more preoccupied with love at the moment than myself. Not love in the sense "I hate Valentine's Day because I will never get flowers," (I am too wonderful to pass up, of course), but the "I wonder what the next romantic drama to unfold will be" type of sense. At best, it can be entertaining, in preferably happy outcomes. At worst, I make lots and lots of cookies and supply cheap vodka.

I like to think that is not as sad as it sounds.

Regardless, Wilson seems determined to unknowingly oblige me. Apparently, Mark, our FedEx man, has brought three packages to us instead of to Pepsi, whose office is down the hall. Whining to Wilson about it (I am still not quite sure what he does, although he is the nicest guy) has led to the most fascinating twist.

Suddenly very interested in my story, Wilson volunteers to walk the packages down the hall to Pepsi. Not one to miss a behavioral change brought about with the same subtlety as being suddenly hit by a tank, I immediately launch into nosy, investigative mode (I like to call this 'concern').

I justify this because if my keen spidey-sense is working (or my dependency on knowing all things in the office to perform my job), another love-lorn member of society is banking hope on a breath mint, a cheerful smile, and optimism the leggy blonde who works for Pepsi will remember they shared an elevator. Her name is Roxy. I believe she has a boyfriend. I also believe Wilson may not be in the know.

I am torn between letting this play to completion (I could be wrong about her romantic status), and between sparing him potential heartache and/or humiliation by forewarning him. Enter more attractive option three: verify hunch with gentle probing and volunteer casual offhand information while appearing ignorant (I have to cover my own ass, I work here after all).

Luckily for me, Mark has seen fit to bring a package into my possession for an office the floor above me. Coincidence.... who cares. My egg has hatched.

"Wilson, since you are delivering Pepsi's packages, could you take this one to the office upstairs for me?" I am ALL sugar and honey here. Probably a mistake. I am never honey, unless I am cornered. His delivering the package would be nice, though (under normal situations, I would just ask, so he is right to be cautious).
"You want me to go upstairs? I would rather not, I am too lazy." He pauses. He knows I am pawning off work on him (I never get to pawn off work on anybody), but is not quite sure why. Great. Just great.
"So, why are you walking to Pepsi, then? Would it be that much more work to continue down the hallway and push the elevator button?" I am starting to get annoyed. Can he not see I am using the honey voice? He has heard me use that to kindly tell callers where they can go. Where does the line between tact and bluntness begin?
"I kind of want to talk to the girl who works at Pepsi." Well, he apparently knows. I am a crappy liar, even indirect half-lies. But nor is he stupid, either. He can read between the lines as well as any. Time for the kill.
"Is she the brunette? She seems nice. I haven't really spoken with her, but Roxy says she is. You met Roxy on the elevator this morning." I pause.
"She is dating someone, isn't she?" Truly not an idiot.
"I believe so... but I could be wrong. It never hurts to be friendly." One day, office politics may even permit a direct personal conversation.
"Very true," he gives an infectious grin and pops a breath mint. "But I'm still lazy, so you can take that last package upstairs."

I will never get to pawn off my work on anyone. Damn.

posted by Jill @ 10:51 PM