The End of Office Boredom

Day four hundred and two of my incarceration in this hell hole of a manufacturing company. I remember when I first interviewed for this position, believing it would bring me a new life. If I had only known what I do now.

On that interview day it was warm and I had spent almost two hours primping. The expense of the new clothing I purchased was a little modest for my taste, but I didn't know the gender of my interviewer. Whoever said that gender didn't matter in interviews was an idiot.

Women are hired as attractions. Men are hired based on their experience and talent. Nothing has proven me wrong so far. It was proving to be true for this job.

Anyway, this job was hopefully going to be a step up from my Barista "career". So I made time to make myself look more attractive that day. If I got the job, I could afford the clothing to maintain it. I just wanted a higher status in life back then. Now, now I am about to die of boredom.

I checked my email for the hundredth time today. Not that anything would be required of the prettiest girl on the floor that would keep me from dreaming and surfing the net for clothes. I looked in the mirrored wall next to my desk and a frown was on my face. It took so much effort to move my mouth into something that approached a happy grin, a requirement of this position.

The red blouse I wore was a little more revealing today. That helped a little. I couldn't see my black skirt sitting at my desk, but I knew the execs on this floor loved it. They tried to hide their glances, but I knew when to look to catch them looking at me.

I guess they were good at their jobs, but the company's politically correct atmosphere took all the fun out of working here. The atmosphere felt fake. The men that worked here were of average looks and some even had higher incomes, but four hundred and two days later not one flirtatious comment or look.

I always told myself that I didn't need a man to make me happy. These locals sure didn't. I tilted my head and exposed a little more cleavage in the mirrored wall. I was still beautiful at twenty-four years old, but days like today made me feel like a hundred inside. I wanted fun, not this.

The elevator doors opened and someone odd stepped out of the farthest one. At least six foot with greying dark hair and clothes that seemed out of place here. Everyone on this floor wore a suit, but not this guy. He looked down both directions of the hallway looking lost. He was wearing jeans with a collared grey shirt. He could be one of the factory workers, but they almost never ventured up to this office unless they were being let go. Not having an escort with him meant he wasn't being fired. It intrigued me a little.

A little loud, "Are you lost, sir?"

He turned towards me and I forgot what I was about to say next.

His blue eyes focused on my green eyes and stayed there.

He walked towards me.

It was less than forty steps from where he stood at the elevator, but I did a hundred judgments of the guy before he took the few steps to my desk.

His posture was almost perfect. He was in relatively good shape. I could see more definition in his forearms the closer he came. The smile that started to form took so long I thought he didn't like me at first. Finally, before me, he waited. His brown belt matched his clean brown shoes, and his body said he was in charge. I felt small for some reason.

"I am here."

What the fuck is he talking about?

"You are looking for someone?" I asked.

Seconds ticked by before he raised a peppered eyebrow.

I frantically looked in the appointment schedules of everyone on the floor. Was this a joke?

Nothing appeared on my computer screen, and that made me nervous.

"Your name sir?"

"David."

I felt foolish for asking for his last name, but this lack of verbal communication from him was mysterious.

"Your last name, sir?"

Both of his eyes furrowed. I could tell he was thinking of something.

"Is Linda Gibson your real name, or are you a temp?" He asked, obviously reading the plaque on my desk.

A little bit of hostile tone escaped from me, "It is my real name and I am not a temp."

He then ignored me and pulled out his cell phone from his back pocket. The act almost threw me into hysterics, how dare he ignore me. I stared at that cell and noticed something weird. The phone was purple and had a design of a white flower on the back of it. It looked fucking gay for a man.

He called someone. "Larry, this is David, you lied to me asshole. I am on your floor and your gatekeeper does not even know that I am expected."

"Gatekeeper?" My temper flared.

He waved his hand to calm me down, and I felt like he tagged me with something demeaning. My anger incremented to the next tier of open hostility.

I flipped my blond hair over my shoulder with my hand ready to do verbal battle with this nobody when shock overcame me. I never moved that hand to my hair unless I was styling it or I was attracted to the guy. I looked at my fingers instead of the man in front of me. The red nail polish was immaculate. I took a deep breath to calm myself then I really looked at him.

"Sir, as the receptionist on this floor, not gatekeeper, please give me your last name."

"Ms. Gibson, he is David Griggs, I was expecting him." A more formal voice answered behind me. I turned my head, and the vice president on this floor was addressing me. I had to swallow my anger in a flash. This guy would fire me for less than demanding a last name.

"Yes, Mr. Carson."

"Larry, you are the one who is late. Besides, this lady is only doing the job you hired her to do." David said.

David winked at me as Mr. Carson glared at me. I was terrified inside. Just because I didn't like the job didn't mean I wanted to lose it, and this seemed like one of those tipping points in life. And I didn't understand why.

"David, she was unaware of my schedule change since my PC is down. If you were not the best at what you do I would fire you arrogant asshole if I could. I just got a phone call that made me a few minutes late otherwise she wouldn't have to put up with either of us."

David snickered like a little boy. This exchange seemed normal between friends.

"Larry doesn't mean to call me arrogant, Linda. The rest is probably true though. I am an asshole."

Mr. Carson rolled his eyes. For the first time in over a year the simple curse word of asshole gave me hope that my day of boredom would be better than the other four hundred and one. I laughed silently a little.

He must have took that as a good sign, "I am going for coffee after work today, why don't you buy a Grande for me, so I can forgive you harassing me?"

Huh? Me buy for him? It was very bold approach.

"Men buy me drinks, not the other way around." I said.

"You are happy with those other men then?"

I hadn't been, but this exchange seemed different. I tested him. "What kind of car would you pick me up in?" I was expecting the normal year, make, model and fucking engine size.

"It's yellow, but don't you want to drive me?"

"Yellow, like a banana?"

"It's a big banana and the ride is a little rough. So that's a yes."

A cough to my side, "David, you can't do this. This is inappropriate for work."

Inside I died. The fun had just left the room.

David just plowed through, "I can meet you on this floor at four o'clock."

I nodded. David's smile got bigger. Mr. Carson turned away from us and started walking towards his office. I felt like he was rolling his eyes with the way he walked away. David caught up to him and touched the man's shoulder as they walked. I heard the word asshole silently from both as they walked away.

With them gone a semblance of normalcy returned to the empty space. Mr. Carson had all the authority with none of the fun in any situation. David was interesting however.

I did a google search on him. His image did not come up at all. I did a public records search. I even did a FB search. Frustrated by the lack any electronic information on the net I checked our own company database. He didn't fit here, but I hit the jackpot. On the organization chart David reported to the President. All it said was "Sales". Nobody was under him. He wasn't part of the sales department group. Vice Presidents all had people under them, but David had nothing of notice except his email and cell number.

I spoke my thoughts, "Is he a consultant?" It made even less sense to me saying it out loud.

"First guess, amazing." David said behind me. I shyly turned around. Damn these carpeted hallways.

"Mr. Griggs, I didn't know you were standing there. It's kinda creepy."

"I think it is more creepy when a woman like you does an internet search on a innocent guy like me after only a few seconds of talking."

Was it? I felt like I had to protect myself.

"You didn't give me much information about your relationship to Mr. Carson."

"Do you want to give me the job interview now, or wait till coffee at four, which is only an hour away?"

"Now." I said, maybe I could pass on coffee. Coffee in the afternoon? That was a stupid choice.

"Ok, let me make a call first." He picked out his cell from his pocket again and dialed someone. "Diane, Linda Gibson is going to a counseling session, please send someone to man her post.

Diane could be my direct boss and the President's secretary. This guy was nuts. No one would come.

He hung up his phone and looked at me. "What's your first question of three I will allow you before I get bored?"

"Was that Diane Smith?"

"Yes. Next question."

Shit. Did I just waste one of my questions? I had to think. It was the president's secretary.

"Why coffee?"

"I only allow myself one cup a day. I ran out the door this morning forgetting my favorite caped cartooned character travel mug on the kitchen counter. I will have to put up with the paper cup, but you get to look in my eyes as I savor the bitter sweet taste. "

It was a really smug answer, but colorful.

The elevator doors opened and my boss stepped out onto to the floor. Diane looked rushed as she came closer. "Is there a problem, David? I mean, has she done something?"

The implication was I was getting fired. I was half frozen with dread.

"Yes." He said. Did she just steal my third question from me?

"I'll watch her desk till four then." She said.

"Well, that's three questions."

David grabbed my right hand and like a puppy I followed him into the elevator. We were still holding hands in the elevator when I actually noticed I had not let go. I was unsure and excited at the same time.

On the garage level, I pulled my hand away from him.

"What is going on?" I asked.

"Coffee remember, there is a place about a mile away up Stemmons road. You said you would drive."

"Did I, but I, we left without my purse or keys?"

"You can come back for them. I will drive I guess." He took my hand again, and it was difficult to keep up with him in the pumps I was wearing, but we only went a little distance. He pulled a keychain from his front pocket and plucked a key from a set of six. The only car around was a green old looking boxy car. He unlocked the driver's door, and got in.

I looked at the car. It had old character. Didn't he say it was yellow? This car was green. The inside was a shiny black leather I guess or plastic. He pulled up a stick like peg below the passenger window as he reached over to the other side of vehicle from the driver's side. It must be a lock, I concluded. I heard a physical knock as it rose. He closed his door, and lowered his window.

"Well, the door is open. I can leave you here if you want." He said without a care it seemed.

I walked around the front of the car. It had a huge chrome grill that covered the entire front edge of the car. This thing was a relic. What was I doing? I don't know this guy. I opened the car door, and had to lower myself into the bench seat. There seemed to be an unnatural amount of space between us in the front seat. I pulled on the seat belt, and there was no shoulder strap. I felt like this old car was dangerous.

Was this the part when the guy mushes over his classic car? I felt like it was about to happen. I expected it now. I was in the beast after all. I waited.

We drove through the garage level and headed to the street. Construction on the street prevented us going very fast. He turned where I expected and only drove a short distance. He parked in front of the fucking coffee shop and got out. I undid my seat belt. The car was clean inside but had more room than any car I had ever been in. I felt small like when I overlooked that hallway at work. Why didn't he talk about his car? My door opened, and he held a hand to me. For the third time I took his hand and stepped out. I rather liked him holding my hand, but I wasn't going to tell him that.

Why was I fucking counting? He pressed the lock and closed the car door. He hadn't let go, and I didn't want him too. We walked in, and I knew the real tests I would do on David were about to begin.

The girl behind the counter smiled at his approach, and so did the guy behind her. They knew him.

"Your late today, David."

"And you are working over your shift Sandie, I don't see Gina."

"Well, that's why I am over my shift, she called in."

He looked at me. "Women, you get pregnant and next thing you know, you are calling in sick."

The girl laughed. "She's nine months, David, I think she is allowed. I thought she would pop last Friday."

"Like being pregnant is an excuse for not serving me coffee."

He sounded half annoyed but the staff all laughed at him and waited. He turned to me.

"How about something cool? They serve a raspberry iced tea. Yea, you look like you need something sweet. Rachel, a small raspberry iced tea for Linda and a Grande for me. I don't want you peeing in my car taking you back to the office so a small is all you get."

I looked at him aghast. Was he being nice or mean? I nodded.

"Wow, must be your unlucky day David, I think you forgot your mug only three times since I worked here", Sandie said.

"Four, but you were on vacation that day."

Their banter was jovial. I felt left out of the conversation. It was like this girl on the other side of the counter was me over a year earlier and this was my favorite customer. I felt more attraction to the guy, but I didn't understand the why of it. He paid before taking our cups to a seat near the window. How come he had all this status with this group? His car was old, his clothes relatively average, but his demeanor with these people suggested they were his family. I felt comfortable, safe as I sat across from him.

"Do you come here often?" I asked.

"I already picked you up, don't you have a better line?" He asked and laughed.

Huh? I got defensive. "I don't know what to ask."

"Oh, I am restoring it, and I am going to paint it yellow."

"Now, what are you talking about?"

"My car, it's green currently. You must not get into stranger's car much."

"Well, I don't."

I tried to collect my thoughts. Everything was going a different way than my expectations. I felt outside my comfort zone. He seemed relaxed and natural in a scene that fit him. I felt the need to be accepted not only by him but the people in this stupid shop.

As he sipped his coffee it gave me time to look him over. His face looked maybe Italian or Greek, at least the coloring seemed about right. His mannerisms felt natural. He wasn't even trying to get my attention. Was he? I decided to test him. I got up to go to the restroom. I didn't ask. I just got up.

He sat there. He didn't say a word. Every fucking insecure guy in the world would have asked me where I was going. I turned at the restroom door to look at him from across the room, but he wasn't even looking in my direction. I went in, did some tiny business in the stall, and asked myself, "What are you doing Linda?" I washed my hands and went back to him. I felt like I didn't matter to him. He doesn't care. The thought bothered me.

Back at his table, I blurted out once I sat down, "How come you don't like me?"

It looked like this question confused him. "Look, I just met you. I don't know you yet. Don't rush to get in my pants on the first date. If it happens, it happens, just enjoy the moment." He said.

His pants? Was I? I was irritated that I was now thinking it. It caused me to blush.

After a few seconds, like he could read my mind, he reached out his hand towards mine and patted my right hand. "Please, stop thinking of sex."

"You caused me to think of it."

"Then we need to leave."

He got up and took his coffee. I followed half-hearted. Everything was mixed up. Why wasn't this guy behaving like all the guys in the past? I help my cup like a shield in front of me as we got back into his car. I was holding my own insecurities at bay with that stupid cup.

I was looking at his ass in his jeans, just wondering.

"Where?" I asked.

"You left your keys at the office."

So we went back. The drive back was even slower. It was now only four twenty, but I could see the place was empty because all but a few cars were in the parking garage now. Four o'clock was the end of the torture and no one wanted to be around one minute longer.

Was this it? He was just going to leave me in the empty garage. Thankfully, he didn't.

He escorted me to the elevator getting in with me. I felt safer with his presence. The empty garage had made me nervous.

Once on my floor, "Is everyone gone already?" He asked.

"Yea, normally. I never stay this late myself." The clock on the wall read only four twenty two. He walked behind me to my desk. I walked around to where I sat, and I felt his hand whisk some of my blond hair of my shoulder. I froze before I bent down to retrieve my purse from my desk. It had to be deliberate, the slight touch. Relief flooded me. Thank God he touched me.

I was turned away from him, and alone. I didn't feel in danger, but I did feel excited. No one in four hundred and two days had touched me at work. This guy can't be serious. I stood turning to face him trying to gauge his intentions. He leaned into me.

His first kiss was to my right cheek. My mind clouded. I tried to say something. Was I mad? I got a second small kiss to my neck. I turned towards him, lifted my right hand and got a kiss on my wrist. What was I doing with my hand? He pulled my wrist towards him to kiss me on the crook of my right elbow.

This can't be happening, but I was so fucking glad it was. He got bolder and bolder as his lips traveled up my arm. He was a handsome man. I got chills as he kissed me on the right side of my neck.

The hallway was quiet except for the sound of my heartbeat, it thundered in my ears. In the mirrored walls my face reflected back a huge smile. I could not believe this, but I was obviously happy about it.

He lightly bit my left earlobe. "More." I whispered. His tongue snaked under my ear and his lips nuzzled against my neck for a few more seconds. Damn, this guy was good. The smell of him filled my nose. My knees shook some.

I traced my hand up his chest. I could feel solidness under his shirt. I briefly wondered how long it would take the guy to grab my ass or force his tongue down my throat. I was hoping he would try so I could resist on those grounds but neither happened as our make out session continued unabated. My hands wandered on him and he kept mainly to my neck and arms. I was actually getting frustrated by the lack of escalation when he stopped altogether. I heaved my D sized breasts in frustration.

I looked around the area nervously. No one was around, and I didn't think I had cameras on this floor but now the thought worried me. We hadn't really done anything.

He took my hand and led me to the elevator. I was a little wobbly and briefly hoped he wasn't leading me to a smelly broom closet or one of the restrooms, but images of making out in any of them wasn't repulsive at the moment. I was definitely in the moment now.