The reason why I was going to ask for guidance is something that has been lightly bothering me since before Christmas. There’s a gentleman in our company who, being kind, is not the most attractive of men. He ticks all the other boxes, though: he’s got a great personality, great threads and is in good shape. In essence, he’s a real Back Beauty. And while I often hang with all the girls during the “Ooooh! So who would
Interesting side note. I don’t normally drink tea at all, preferring to keep my silken skin pure with water. As days have gone by, I find that a cup of tea to be on your desk an essential comedy aide, particularly as you can splutter it at the most opportune of instants. After much practice, I can now get a 110-degree arc at a distance of three foot, which does qualify me for a Prince’s Award, apparently.
Anyway. Back to this gentleman. My reaction got back to him via one of the girls, to which he was genuinely put out - yet not for the obvious reason. I’d like to highlight that he is straight, has a girlfriend all last year, yet his retort was “But! But I’m very camp!” He’s not, but bless him for thinking it, and I resolved to bolster his ego at the next opportunity - which came surprisingly quickly. There was an invite to a fabulous media party the following day, and he sent around the invites.
“Are you going?” I typed in reply. He sent an affirmative. I rejoined with “Aww! Shame I can’t make it, then. I could have pushed you into a corner and given you a quick snog!”
What reply did I get from this ebullient chappie? Absolutely nothing. And that was the oddest thing - did he not take it as a joke? I believed I’d completely crossed a line, and became resolute to just keep my big mouth shut in future. Oh, you fool! You’ve alienated another one of your colleagues, leaving only one German guy in Contracts and the coffee machine! Sigh.
Now. When it comes to people’s body language, I am all over the place. It takes people to hit me on the head and say ‘Look! They fancy you!’ before I realise. There is a pattern with short, fat women behind tills finding me nice; the latest being in a supermarket I frequent, and she’s always that little too chatty and interested in what I’m buying. Which can be a smidgen embarrassing when the Wife’s coming over for the night, but if she hasn’t guessed I’m a complete mary from what I purchase, more fool her. And when it comes to reading the signals myself, if I’m not looking, it always passes straight over my well-coiffured head. So imagine my surprise when I started getting these signals off this certain gentleman a few desks down from mine. Catching him looking at me in company meetings. Finding him lightly leaning against me as I talked to a colleague. It really is most perplexing.
I may just be reading something into nothing but, dear readers, what should I do?