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January 16, 2003
Here's Me at Work:
I see a security guard go into a doorway I've never noticed in a room that's rarely used. He returns quickly and continues on his rounds. I check the room out and see that it is a reasonably large utility room or closet which is nearly empty save for a water heater on the opposite side of the room and a shelving unit on another wall. I quickly decide that the water heater is for the lavatory on the opposite side of the wall.
Then I wonder about how long you could stay in that room without being noticed. I add it mentally to the list of places one could go in case it should be necessary for quick use.
You know you've thought about it too—the places where you could have sex at work.
I never think about sex at work.
Except when I see the skinny bare-midriff girl. As she's talking to us I notice the space between her jeans and her abdomen. That's not distracting at all! Because I'm imagining putting my hands on her hips and liftng her to my mouth so that I can explore her vulva with my tongue. I didn't need to know that she wears thongs, but I was able to determine that once as for a brief shining moment it was plainly visible. I am a visual thinker. My brain automatically starts presenting images of this to me. Now I have to return to the conversation. How much time did I just lose?
Then there is the woman who has spent a little too much time on the tanning bed since she was a cheerleader... but she's still easy to look at. God bless her, she wears v-neck knit sweaters! But what I really like is that baby got back. Her long skirts move really nicely. Her office is really small, but if she bent over her desk it would work so perfectly. Bam. Bam! BAM! Oh God. Oh God! OH GOD!
And the sassy girl leading the meeting. Your top appeared so demure from the front. It's not enough that when we talk my internal dialogue has only two words: 1) Fuck 2) me. No, I'm sitting here next to you at the corner of the table riveted by the fact that even though your top is buttoned all the way up it is hanging open in such a way that I can see the entire right cup of your bra and the support strap. Remember 3D brain? It also has X-Ray vision. For the love of God, woman, put that thing away! Now, there is no meeting. All of my mental resources are diverted to the emergency procedure of Not-Getting-Caught-Looking. It takes every once of strength I have to calmly turn my chair back perpendicular to the table so that I can only see the people on the other side.
Now, these are just the things I notice serendipitously that interrupt my obsessing over The One. Sometimes I think about kneeling in front of The One in her office chair and, uh, worshipping at her altar. I could go on and on. That fucking "SPICY" t-shirt she wore twice, trying to look casual—yet being completely made-up. That shit's not lost on me. Out of three weeks away, she was around on the first and the third. If she had been around all tree weeks, or if I had been away any longer, I would be certain of 2 things. The first being that I would not still be married. The second being that I would have hopped over the fence to play on the field.
I'm not saying that it would have worked, knowing my mental state at the time. I not saying that it's right. I know what pain it would cause. What I am saying is that if there is another invitation, I'll accept.
God help me.
[+] Posted by Soulless S. Breedlove at January 16, 2003 10:43 PM, who was sinning at the time by revealing evil. [+]
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