“How does a girl who falls, no actually jumps eyes wide open, down a rabbit hole, plummeting into chaos come out unchanged? The answer: She doesn’t…” ~Little Black Book. Here’s the thing about rabbit holes, you never know exactly what you’re getting yourself into even if you think you do. And I had since been changed. A million times over. There’s no way I couldn’t be, but not in the way I’d hoped or wanted to be. I wasn’t yet the jaded, bitter woman, who thought all men sucked, but I was getting close and I didn’t want that to happen. Where was he for Christ’s sake!!!?? So now it was time again to not rely on anyone else. I have learned this lesson the hard way although I have had a tremendous amount of help from both my family and friends, I have never had a man who I could rely on wholeheartedly. I guess for as much as I put into my relationships, I still always had one foot out the door. A “just in case” measure to make sure I could handle when things went south. Like geese for the winter….I was feeling much better and got approved to return to work. Shortly before the first day back I received a phone call explaining that a new Director had been hired and I would like him. Hmm…why would I like him more than anyone else? So I went to work and for the first few days I was there I never caught a glimpse of him. I did my job, got things back on track and than went home. I was managing a million things at the homestead with my kids and really couldn’t focus on having yet another man think I’m fantastic until things got tough and then leave. I was getting tired. And my never-ending quest seemed like just that…never ending. He had to be getting close cause I’ve dated or married just about everyone! And then the day happened. I was in my office and he came in to introduce himself to me and I thought, holy shit. This man was articulate, educated, built, soft-spoken and gosh darn gorgeous. Instantly I could feel something between us as his eyes sparkled at me and he said his name. I’m dreads….nice to meet you. As I put out my hand and gave the hardest handshake I could, I realized he was still holding my hand as he stared at me dead in my eyes. I blushed, embarrassed and then we got to work. The flirtation dance began that day and I let him lead. We swayed this way and that way, dipping me here and there, but always being professional and never crossing a boundary, but I could see the way he would look at me. Listening intently, holding on to every word I said. Not agreeing per say, but definitely impressed with my vocabulary and knowledge base. We discussed the job, how to make things better, how to work together as a team to encourage and promote a healthy, fun working environment. We briefly discussed our families and personal lives, but more in passing then anything else. He was deep and philosophical and inspiring. I was taken by him, but not in an infatuation type of way, but impressed with his ability to glide through workplace situations that would make me stressed or uptight. He seemed to maneuver himself through meetings and decisions like velvet. Smooth. Very. Very. Smooth. I think one of the sexiest things about a man is his intelligence. His vocabulary. The way a man can use words to communicate along with body language and presence. He had all of this. And he was easy on the eyes which didn’t hurt. He was a man of color and being I was an equal opportunity lender I realized why the office women would think I would like him more than anyone else. I have dated, married, been engaged to all different types of men. Men of all shades, ethnicities and religions. I think everyone no matter what color you are looks better with a tan, I know I do. I have never dated, been engaged to or married an Italian man, much to my parents dismay. My grandmother would say to me on a regular basis.. “All of these men are nice, but can’t you just find a nice Italian boy?” I would smile and say to her “Gram, would being with an Italian man really make a difference?” Dreads was clearly not Italian. And since I didn’t even know any Italian men, I would start here. Right where I was. And take it from there.
2 thoughts on “Officemate”
Grandma would be happy you are dating an Italian man!!!!
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Grandma knows best
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