| It's like Prison Dating. |
The hospital where I work is doing some major construction in the courtyard outside of my office. I am not at all on the ground floor, but the gentlemen on the site are building new levels and as such are often hovering precariously outside of my window.
There are two guys in particular who seem to be in charge of my side of the building. One is older, probably about late forties or so, and one is younger- he seems to be my age. I see them every single day, and it was only relatively recently that I realized they could also see me.
I don't know why I didn't figure this out sooner, but for some reason I behaved as though my window was a two way mirror. Like a Law and Order attorney observing a prolonged and metallurgical confession, I would just stare and stare, and discuss construction progress with my office mate. I assumed they didn't know I was watching them. I mean, how could they possibly see me, right? Surely not through this giant pane of transparent glass!
One day I was sitting at my desk, typing away, when I was distracted by some movement in my periphery. I looked to my right and the two construction guys were hovering directly in my line of vision. We were eye level.
"Look, Rita," I said. "The construction guys are right outside. I can see them."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah, look. Helloooooo!" I said, at a totally normal person volume. I waved. "Hi, guys!"
Both waved back and mouthed "Good morning!"
I screamed a little.
"Holy shit, Rita. They can see me! They can see US!"
"Through the window? You don't say."
"I didn't think they could see us! Oh my gosh. Oh my GOSH. I wonder if they know I've been talking about them."
"I wonder if they've been watching you change in here. I TOLD you to change in the bathroom."
"Oh, god dammit!"
I immediately blushed and tried to pretend I had not been staring. I concentrated on my computer for what felt like forever but was probably about four seconds, and then tried to sneak a look to check if they were still there.
Not only were they still there, they were still looking at me. And when they caught my eye, both broke out in huge grins and waved again.
I was so embarrassed. I gathered up some papers and charged off for a Fake Meeting somewhere, just to escape.
After my initial idiocy, though, things got a lot better. The construction workers usually got to work around the same time I do (crack of dawn) so we'd smile and wave through out the day. Once the younger one was dangling outside of my window and he knocked on the glass and gestured to the blanket I had on my lap. He pointed to it, pointed to me, and then mimed shivering. I nodded that yes, I was cold. Because he was outside in the chilly fall air, I asked if he was cold too. He shook his head no and pretended to fan himself from the heat, his breath making dramatic steamy puffs as he did so.
A couple of times they'd catch me watching them work (which was a symphony in its own right) and I'd quick try to pretend I wasn't spying but never ever did I pull that off. Once I was so flustered at how busted I was that I tried to make it look like I was reaching for a book on a shelf as opposed to what I was really doing, which was staring at the young one's butt, and the book was resting on a piece of paper and I tugged the paper and- crashbangboom- like three books fell down, one of which hit me on the head. Of course he saw, and of course he laughed. Wouldn't you?
A few days ago, I didn't have a morning case and therefore arrived to my office at the crack of 9 AM, which was ridiculously indulgent. When they saw me, both construction guys pointed to their watches and shrugged, making big old "What the hell?" faces. I placed my hands next to my face, tilted my head, and closed my eyes. The younger one smiled and gave me the thumbs up, then indicated his own thumbs up with disgust, which clearly meant "Who does thumbs-ups anymore?" I laughed.
This afternoon, there was another knock on my window. I looked up, and the younger construction worker was there with a sign. It read:
My name is Frank. What is your name?
I tried to mouth 'Meg' back to him, but my stupid name doesn't translate well via lip-reading. So I jumped up, grabbed some blank paper from the printer, and scrawled M-E-G. I turned around and held it up for him.
He nodded and smiled, and said (not that I could hear) "Hi, Meg."
I said "hi."
Because we had nothing left to do, we both waved again.
He turned to go finish something further down the building. Peering over his shoulder to make sure I was watching, he pretended to be going down invisible stairs, and just as he disappeared from view, his gloved hand popped back up to say good-bye.
I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding.
You guys? He has a really, really cute dimpled smile. And a little bit of scruff on his face. And pretty-like-a-girl eyes that are deep chocolate brown.
I sat back down at my desk and finished some charts, checked some schedules, and eventually started eating lunch. I was almost done when I heard another tap on the window.
It was Frank. He had a sign pressed to the glass that read:
Do you like lunch?
I nodded enthusiastically because god knows I DO like lunch. A whole lot.
Frank bent his head over his pad of paper again. He held up another sign:
Would you like to get lunch with me?
I smiled and nodded again, then froze as I remembered the blatantly obvious lunch I was eating at my desk about three feet behind me. Don't get me wrong- I will absolutely eat two lunches in one day if the need arises. I'm a hero like that. I was just not prepared for this guy I barely knew to be clued in to my gluttony so early.
Too late. He had seen my lunch. He peered around me at the remnants of salad and ginger ale at my work station. He looked up at me, disappointed (or I like to think so), then quickly scribbled on his paper again. While he was writing, I played a quick game of charades with myself and tried to think how best to act out "What? That's totally not MY lunch. Um. I'm just holding it. For a friend. Yeah. A friend's lunch! Not mine! Let's get married!" Then Frank held up:
Next week?
I nodded.
He smiled a slow, dreamy smile. I blushed and tried to look alluring but I think it probably came off as congested. The older one came into view just then, and grabbed the younger one by the collar. They indicated that they had to go to the other part of the worksite then (AKA not outside of my window). But before Frank was dragged away, he quickly edited his last sign, and held it up to me.
Next week!
I nodded again.
He smiled and we waved goodbye.
So I'm not even sure if lunch will actually happen, but it was such a fun diversion throughout the week. Whatever the situation, I'll keep you all posted.
Labels: fake relationships, on the job, silly |
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| 16 Comments: |
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Look at you!! This is so excellent I can't even tell you. This is the shit that romantic comedies are made of. Sigh.
I'm not kidding you, the guy I "date" (loosely used there) just emailed me about our plans tonight to see if "I'd be open" to a Hot & Ready Little Cesar's pizza and a ten sack from White Castle.
No. Kidding.
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First of all:
Like a Law and Order attorney observing a prolonged and metallurgical confession
That's the second post in a row with a simile that made me smile. Clearly I watch too much TV to be this amused by Law & Order and American Beauty references.
Second of all:
Tee hee.
I picture you and Frank having a cute little lunch picnic... seperated by a plane of glass. You nibble on your lunch while nervously glancing at one another, making awkward small talk... made even more awkward by the fact it's all scribbled on paper. It's actually very romantic, in a Boy in The Bubble kind of way. :-)
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I hope you two do get married. This would be an excellent "how I met your mother" type story.
And you should totally finger his prostate.
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See? This is why I want to be you when I grow up.
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I love this! Your life is like a movie!
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excitng things like this NEVER happen in my office... just a bunch of fatties and weirdos hovering over the microwave oven!
can't wait to hear more!
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I bet it was like in those Diet Coke Adds, the women who at the same time each day check out the guy's butt :-).
Good luck with the date..
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OMG - I'm swooning at my desk. What a fun fun flirtation.
And you know he'll be handy around the house. Make lots and lots of babies with this guy.
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omg omg omg :squeaalll:
next week!
(and dude, i never, ever squeal, but this is just too ... too good.)
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H-As I mentioned to you earlier, I'm Hot N Ready just reading that proposition you have there.
Star- YES. exactly. you understand. that's how i pictured it too. we'll get married and live happily ever after and i'll give birth to hundreds of wee franks that were created when Frank Sr inseminated me via dixie cup and a sliding partition.
JB-Well, it's the only responsible thing to do, am I right?
Katherine- He's cute. You should see. i'd try to draw a picture but, well. I'm bad at that.
Jamelah- You can be me and I will be you. Fair trade?
Andi- it's only a movie sometimes. mostly its like America's funniest home videos. you know. because of all the punches to the crotch.
dre- we have weirdos out the wazoo. it's very telling that i was attracted to the one man I saw on the OTHER side of the glass. the ones on my side belong in the monkey cage.
evie- i have to youtube that.
jason- HANDY=SEXY, and I am so glad someone else feels that way.
fathima- I know! Squealing is out of character for you! I will keep you updated. Oh, and I really, really enjoyed your most recent post. you're too good.
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This is my greatest fantasy. I can't wait to read how this plays out.
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*squee!* This is so romantical!! I can't wait for updates. Am in love with Frank's super cuteness with the signs and fake stairs. :)
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Update? Where's the update? How does this story end?
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That is so darn cute. I had a similar exchange with a young lady once. I would write "You + me + your mom = good time" and she would write "Restraining Order". Things didn't quite work out.
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don't leave us hanging here.
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Name: A Lover and a Fighter
Home: New York, NY
About Me: "It is a very sad thing that nowadays there is so little useless information."
-Oscar Wilde
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Look at you!! This is so excellent I can't even tell you. This is the shit that romantic comedies are made of. Sigh.
I'm not kidding you, the guy I "date" (loosely used there) just emailed me about our plans tonight to see if "I'd be open" to a Hot & Ready Little Cesar's pizza and a ten sack from White Castle.
No. Kidding.