Monday, August 11, 2008

Mysterious, Part One

Maybe it's the stubble. I don't know.

I say it might be the stubble because I've become quite lax in my shaving habits. I generally have an average of three days growth at any given time. And I recently saw the results of a survey that said women prefer men's facial hair in this order:

1. Stubble
2. Full beard
3. Clean shaven

Now, I didn't really believe that when I read it. Nonetheless, being a man of the people, I decided to allow my lazy ways to assimilate to the results of this highly scientific study.

And, whaddaya know: Women have started flirting with me. Three, in fact, in the last month. Allow me take you through each incident.

xxxx

The population of available women in my office is low. The population of attractive available women in my office is zero. Which makes this first incident flattering, yet unfulfilling.

You see, she isn't ugly, per se. But she would blend in well within a community of elves or gnomes or some other race of diminutive, woodland peoples. I'm sure she was cute as a child. Now? Not so much. On top of that, she appears to be in her forties, has a hairstyle from the fifties and may or may not live with her mother who is probably in her sixties. The worst part, though, is that she's nice. I take that back; it's not that being nice is a problem, it's that she's overly eager. When most people pass each other in the halls, they acknowledge each other with a nod, a grin or a short hello. She looks longingly into my eyes and won't look away. When lunch is brought in for the office, she'll make a special trip to my desk to make sure that I get something to eat. To hell with everyone else, they can starve for all she cares. Somebody's fax didn't go through? Who gets the first visit to inquire if it may have been theirs? That's right, little old me.

But the incident that gets recorded here makes those minor irritations take a backseat. It wasn't a prolonged encounter, but the feeling remained for quite a while:

She touched me.

Bare hand on bare arm. For no other reason than I was just passing by. Now, I don't know about your office, but mine is not a touchy-feely place. Many of us have worked together for seven or eight years and could be considered friends, even outside of work. But we don't touch each other during work. Which is why this was so unsettling. In all my life, that was as close to feeling violated as I've ever come. And it made me understand why we have such strict sexual harassment laws in place.

I realize this might sound like an extreme reaction to a rather mild occurrence. But it just came off as really strange and uncomfortable. However, it was just the beginning in a series of events that one might find in an AXE deodorant commercial.

To be continued...

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