Friday, June 13, 2003

The next time some boy tells me I'm gay because I "haven't met the right man yet" I'm not going to bite his head off. Reasons for this newfound empathy are as follows: I do the same thing. Often times I find myself looking at the ladies and thinking "You, honey, are only making due because you have no idea what it's like to be with the Chick!" Case in point: There's this girl here at work who I soooo want to be my Pretend Girlfriend. Usually, i'm good. Usually, I can go over to her cube and think helpful, business-ey thoughts while leaning over her desk and avoiding direct eye contact. But, sometimes, hand-to-god, I'm over there and she's all frustrated about something and she leans back in her ergonomic, roller chair and she smiles in some completely over-it kind of way and I just want to take her into the handicap stall, push her up against the wall and make her feel good. Again, I'm not saying I want to go meet her family or convince her to leave whatever excuse for a boyfriend she's got. I don't want to stay up all night giggling with her on the phone or massage her feet after a long hard day at the office; I just want to run my tongue over every visible part of her shivering body for a few minutes then I want to come back to my desk and get the hell to work; is that so wrong??

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