Of an office crush

Disclaimer: The following post may scare the sh*t out of you, especially if you are a girl. The author would like to state that the following events described are semi fictious which is an ingenious way of saying that the good parts are true and the bad scary parts are made up.

She was beautiful. The others didn't quite like her. Materialistic bastards. All they want is thin tall and skinny legs. I wont deny that she had a few extra pounds here and there. Ok, ok she had extra pounds everywhere. But I like girls with meat on their bones. Oddly thats something a lot of people don't understand.

I saw her (for what she was) for the first time on an ethnic day occasion in our office. She was wearing a red sari which accented her figure (not to mention the few extra pounds) which made her look like some Indian goddess of beauty (read: sex symbol). She was on another team which meant I had to direct my eyes across a clearing of cubicles and chairs to get a glimpse of her. Good thing was our team sat next to the pantry and so she had to pass me by to get a cup of coffee. This is was the best part of the day - a chance to hear the "swish-sway' of her sari as she moves, a whiff of her perfume, the wind of her proximity and my best part - a chance to glance at her over sized posterior which mesmerized me.

That's right. I'm more of an a$$ guy.

A female colleague of mine commented on the fact that she was elder than me. Bah, humbug. That doesn't bother me. There were bigger problems.

She's married. Happily married if I were to go on account of her orkut profile. Though this did disturb for the 30 seconds after I learned about it, I didn't let it hamper my feelings for her. I was pretty sure I could turn this one. No, that wasn't the problem that bothered me. What bothered me was that she was a manager.

Thats unchartered territory. A measly associate such as myself with a manager? Gods, it was unheard of! Not to mention the fact that if I were to ever act upon this crush I would most certainly lose my job. My frequent glances at her have been noticed (by her) and I think it was my feverishly frequent visits to her orkut profile that led her to delete it. She had locked her pics a long time ago, but I used to copy and paste her display pics; small as they were; but that was only my way of displaying my affection for her. That's not bad is it ?

It's a good thing she didn't catch me looking at her posterior. That would have been hard to explain.

Anyhoo, I was crushed. I couldn't approach her. I would sit at my desk trying to devise plans while my emails cropped up unanswered. I would try to anticipate her every move to my before said plans while my manager screamed at me during escalation plans. She was my everest and I had to climb her. Figuratively and literally.

The entire team knew of my secret crush. Well you cant call it a secret if you tell everyone about it on drunken night in a pub. But those were the male coleagues. They had no right to let the secret onto the female part of the team. Philistines!

But what was done had been done. The team decided to help me. During a friday fun activity with truth or dare game well in progress, I was asked to complete a dare. I was dared to go up to her and sing.

Ha! The perfect opportunity. I could sing well, my mummy used to say so herself. In fact she was so impressed she would always ask me to stop so I wouldn't strain my voice. This was it. I agreed to do the dare. Ignoring the snickers behind my back from the team I went ahead with extreme confidence. The few paces to her cubicle seemed to long for me but eventually I got there. I had the chance to smell her perfume again and a chance a good view of her posterior as she swivelled on her chair to look at me. I got down on one knee, spread my arms ala SRK, looked her in the eye and sang:

"Ooh my little pretty one, pretty one.
When you gonna give me some time, Sharona?
Ooh you make my motor run, my motor run.
Gun it comin' off the line Sharona
Never gonna stop, give it up.
Such a dirty mind. Always get it up for the touch
of the younger kind. My my my i yi woo. M M M My Sharona..."

I was fired the next day. A restraining order was slapped on me the next week. Apparently she had noticed the admiration to the posterior a long time ago, but it was the singing that was the final straw.

Sigh.

Oh well, good thing I saved her display pics and the pics she had posted on orkut before she locked them all up.

But I do miss the posterior.