Working on It
via Piccsy on We Heart It
After calling off my wedding, ending my relationship, and running back to my new home, I began flirting with a cute British co-worker. Well, I think he started flirting with me, but who can remember these things.
My friend pointed out his increase in visits to my desk, and I noted that he’s got really nice eyes, and looks fantastic in a suit.
The flirting continued for a couple of months – his sense of humour aligns quite well with mine and he’s got great taste in music. When I mentioned one of my favourite bands, he immediately knew them and professed his love for them as well. That was when I knew: this was definitely a crush.
One Friday evening, a few of us went out for drinks. Me, said crush and two of our colleagues proceeded to get very drunk. Towards the end of the evening there was some tension between the crush and my colleague. Fed up, he called for the cheque and made his plans to leave. In my drunken stupor, I boldly stated “I’ll share a cab with you.”
We left the bar and he said “Do you want to go for another beer?”
While I definitely didn’t need it, I said yes. Always say yes! We sat and shared a few pints of Guinness. Got to know each other a little better, talked about music and life and the general chit chat you conduct on a date. Even though this was not a date.
Somewhere between the Guinness and us leaving, it was decided that our taxi would only be making one stop – his apartment. When we arrived, he opened a bottle of champagne and we got to know each other in a different sense. We got to know each other again in the morning.
When I left the next morning I was full of shame and regret. Don’t shit where you eat!
Nervous and very anxious for Monday to arrive, it did and things were fine. He’s an adult and I pretended to be one. This doesn’t have to ruin my office life, does it?
Please say it doesn’t.
the blog of shame 