Archive | Mr. Big X RSS feed for this section

Xerox This

28 Jun

One of the benefits of working in the same building for the last 8 years, and having had various office trysts, is walking past places were I enjoyed an illicit kiss or two. Years ago on a Sunday, I “made out” (see Bartles & Jaymes) with my boyfriend at the time in my cubicle. We were nearly caught by the security guard who was walking down the hallway. Once my boyfriend left town, Hairy McBacksweat and I would enjoy 30 second groping sessions in the service elevator. I still sit in the same cubicle and take the service elevator, and every once in awhile think of them.

The one place that always brings back fond memories is the 3rd floor copy room. It was there that I enjoyed a fabulous and delightful snogfest with Hugh Grant Jr. My he was fine, fine and very young. He pursued me when I he was a new hire-I said no. He kept pursuing-I kept saying no. After all, I had a boyfriend, and he was a trainee. Finally, I gave in one night around Christmas time. He came over to my apartment and we. . .umm. . .did some stuff.

About two weeks later we had both taken a day off from work and were planning on spending the day together. As I was getting ready, the phone rang. He wasn’t going to be able to make it. He was calling from the hospital in Pennsylvania-he’d broken his leg the day before during his ski trip. Damn it. Stupid skiing accident.

When he finally came back to work 6 weeks later, he hobbled down to my desk with his walker. It was a sad scene, but he still looked hot. I promised to visit him before leaving for the day. Once upstairs, he said, “Let’s take a little walk.” This amused me as he was in no shape to be walking. Anywho, we ended up in the copy room. He was leaning on the copier while I was regaling him with one of my riveting stories. He grabbed me and kissed me while I was in mid sentence.

I love the 3rd floor copy room.

You Left Without Saying Goodbye

15 Mar

You left without saying goodbye. We haven’t talked for 2 years, but we both knew where the other one was. Now I hear you’re leaving there and coming here for a different job with a different company. Why can’t you just stay there? Why must you come back here after all this time, after all these years. This is where I live-where we loved each other. But you chose to leave me here, and go there.

When I heard you were leaving this time, I felt such a deep sadness. Though it’s been years since things ended between us, there was some comfort in knowing where you were, and that in certain respects, we were still linked. With you leaving your job, it almost feels as if you’re leaving me all over again. Yet it’s been so long, and I wish it didn’t bother me anymore-that I could just forgot you and move on. Why does it still hurt so much? After all this time, why do I feel that pang in my chest and this lump in my throat as I write this?

We owe each other nothing. We said our goodbyes many years ago. I still think about you, all the time. I compare you to every man that I meet. They never compare to you-not ever. But why would I want them to? You were cruel to me. You broke my heart, you shattered it into a million pieces. I wept for you, and when I leave here today to go home, I’ll weep for you again.

I ache for you. I want to see you, but I don’t. We were terrible to each other: I cheated, you lied, then you left me here. Now you’ve left again. And yet you left without saying goodbye.

Goodbye. Have a nice life. It was nice knowing you. I’ll never see you again. Not ever. I’ll miss you.

A Vast Improvement

1 Mar

This is what my ex looks like with his head on Wilford Brimley’s “hot” body. I’ve added a pretty little red bow tie to show how he looks when he dresses up. It’s a wonder that we didn’t work out. Not sure what he’s holding in his hands, though if I had to guess I’d say it’s my dignity and or self respect.

Ladies, I think he’s still available if you’re interested.

Me, Pathetic? Never (Part 5)

31 Aug

Mr. Big X is a completely worthless piece of crap. Can’t stand him. I did quite well yesterday, even though I was forced to interact with him for a period of several hours. He sucks. It was very fun to see him with a gut and a some extra chins. What was not fun was the fact that a new pimple decided to appear for our reunion. That made me angry. It also didn’t make me happy to be fat and single.

My stalking continues as does Notebook’s lack of interest. It’s really super sweet. I’ve gotten totally lame emails. The last email I sent he opened about 3 hours ago. No response as of yet. My guess is that he won’t respond to me again. Jerk face.

Tomorrow is his last day in the office. After that, he’ll be moving over to another department. That makes me sad b/c I won’t be seeing him very often anymore-or anymore for that often. Not that I’ve seen him at all this week. That’s just as well today since I look like crap-I didn’t even bother to shower today. Ah, pride. It still bites that he’s going to be in another building.

Me, Pathetic? Never (Part 4)

29 Aug

After an officially crap weekend, I expected to come into work this morning and at least find ONE freaking email. Instead, I have NOTHING!! UGH! BOO! Why must this be so difficult? Turn it off-turn it off! I don’t want to like him anymore. So freaking frustrating.

I’m wearing way too much perfume this morning. I have to do little shallow breaths, otherwise it’s possible that I may cause myself to pass out. Also, I wore my contacts today-thinking that I might run into him.

My eyes are already bothering me, and he probably wouldn’t notice the difference. And to top it all off, my roots are awful and my next hair appointment isn’t until September 23rd. My eyes! Can barely see. . . Am sleepy. Would like to remove contacts and take a nap. That would be really sweet right about now. Makes it hard to pretend to do work when my eyes are closed. Instead will just keep checking on the hurricane coverage.

Poor New Orleans, it’s going to be gone before the day is over. No more French Quarter-such a great city too. If only the hurricane had crushed Chicago-with The Big X in it. Now that would be wicked SWEET!

Have received several very weak emails. Saw Notebook in the cafeteria at lunch time. He was looking pretty fine (as usual). Was wearing black button down shirt. He completely ignored me. Totally means that he wants me, right? Or it could mean that he wants nothing to do with me. Why must he play these dirty little games where I have to ana1yze every single freaking thing he does?

Here’s the thing: I totally know this isn’t going to work out, that Notebook’s not going to pick up the phone to call me. What blows is that I really, Really, REALLY want him to! I REALLY like him a lot. Safe to say that I haven’t sweat a guy like this since Mr. Big X-and that was FIVE FREAKING YEARS AGO!! Why is it so hard to make the chemistry work? Why can’t I have him? What does he do in 3 freaking hours that he can’t respond to my emails?? WHY?? It’s so freaking ridiculous. Meanwhile, I check my inbox every 2 minutes to see if he-by chance-has responded.

The super sweet thing-I know that tonight I’ll be checking my stupid cell phone messages about 40 times to see if he called. Oh, here’s a good one. Why not check them now?? You know, in case Notebook happened to call last night after I turned it off. I bet $50,000 that he did NOT call me! Let’s see. . . Low and behold!! NO NEW MESSAGES!! The only thing that’s on there is a saved message from Lauren at IJL. Ugh, I have to go and finish that thing out.

It’s so painful being me. I was basically fondled at the “spa” in WV, and now I have to go on one of those stupid dates. Gee, wonder who they’ll set me up with this time. The guy with the dirty fingernails, and the lazy eyed one is out. Perhaps it’ll be one that’s all tattooed up, or just plain butt ugly. Or maybe a dumb one. Sweet. Really looking forward to that one. Meanwhile-WHY HASN’T NOTEBOOK EMAILED ME??

Ugh. What would Bridget Jones do? Aside from obsess and keep checking here emails/voicemails. Might have to go home and watch it tonight. Only she gets to have both Daniel Cleaver AND Mark Darcy. And what have I got?? NOTHING!! Aw, sweet life. This is exactly how I imagined myself to be: no man, job with crap pay, house I can barely afford, and 30 pounds that would be better suited on someone else. Wicked sweet. Oh, and here’s the other thing. It’s about 10 of 5, so I’m going to sit here hoping that he stops by before he leaves. Only he isn’t going to stop by. Nor will he email me before he goes, nor will he call me later tonight. Instead, I’ll be pining away in the comfort of my own home.

I think I need to take something to make me stop this obsessing. Maybe I’ll go back and read the first few pages of this thing. Back when there was hope. . .Fucker. To think it was barely a week ago. Oh, and a week ago yesterday I was living on cloud 9. Now I’m lower than dirt. Can’t someone throw me a bone? Can’t I have a little something so that when I have to deal with Mr. Big X tomorrow, it won’t feel so awful. What ever happened to that shred of hope? So depressing.

I just did some stalking on email. He’s gone for the day-only I’ll sit here 10 more minutes to see if he’ll come down here. Which he will not do. I hate myself for doing this to myself. Shocker of all shockers, he didn’t come down here to say goodbye. I swear I could cry about this whole entire thing. . .