Fake beginnings

The Roommate and I have this habit of adopting what we call fake boyfriends. Sounds a little insane and stalker-ish, I know. The reality of it, however, is that we have fake boyfriends all over the place, we rarely talk to them and the true function of these many, unknowing men is to provide us with something to think about during the day. In fact, more often than not, we would absolutely never consider actually dating any of these men. We simply like to daydream and it's easier to do so with a person who already has a face and body, rather than starting from scratch. I don't think this is habit any straight guy would understand, but ladies and gays, you get it, right?

Since I spend more time at work now, it only made sense that I would adopt a new Fake Boyfriend. The scary thing though, is that since we do work in the same office, it is inevitable we physically encounter each other, as much as I avoid doing so. Having to talk to him means a destruction of the delicate balance [aka across-the-office eye sex] we've created in the past few months, one that now hangs precariously on a thread of minimal-interaction. In a daydream, Fake Boyfriend can be anything and everything. In reality, he can only be who he already is.

When the office expanded upstairs and desks were moved around, trouble began brewing. For two weeks, as the intern, my life lay in the hands of the accountants in charge of the seating arrangement. And in those two weeks, there were so many people crammed into the office that people were setting up laptops at any available table and my fate was thrown to the wind. Would I be put right outside his office or safely hidden far in a corner? Drum roll, every morning.

Then, we were thrown into a meeting together and I had to sit across from Fake Boyfriend. I don't know his name, I don't know shit about him and I sure as hell did not want to be this close to him when we've had silent eye sex for months. On that fateful day, I began to suspect his Canadianship and then lo, I got put into a desk that isn't right in front of his office but close enough that the eye fucking became obvious on both ends and a slight awkwardness was added to the equation.

Since, I've made a series of poorly calculated decisions and have now run into him in the elevator, lobby, break room, outside and then the first time he spoke to me, I don't know what happened exactly, but I couldn't respond at all. fake laugh, yeah, sputter, silence. Don't believe my denial about this being a crush, because that exactly how I would have handled it in high school.

Anyways, the point is, on Tuesday, I was inspired by Inauguration Day/Obama and the concept of new beginnings. I decided this was ridiculous and that even if I have to give up my fake boyfriend, I can very easily pick up a new office buddy and not just that, an office pal with amazing hair. So, I decided to stop daydreaming and just talk to him. Hooray, right?? Let our real relationship commence.

Our first exchange involved me apologizing for rushing him and him saying that the stirrers needed to be refilled and then me responding with a what? that really meant 'what the fuck?' and then him apologizing for saying that and refilling the stirrers. The second, I was cooler and said I liked his mug and he smiled and if we were two normal people, that could have been it. That could have been one successful, albeit very short, exchange. But no, I had to say that I liked its orangeness, which he thought over for a moment and then, out of fucking nowhere, exclaims, "Jamaica!"

I look at Fake Boyfriend, eyebrow raised. He turns the mug around and sputters a bit and, "Jamaica. See, I got it in Jamaica."


Congratu-fucking-lations; we are now the most retardedly awkward people in the office.