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Within the drone-line doldrums of a corporate office, within that brain-dead monotony of a schedule that you dare to call your workday, and within that melting pot of corporate politics and drained personalities, you hope and hope for one thing that would stand a chance at breaking that frozen realm of a Dilbert-like office life, even if only for one day. The days pass, and then the weeks follow, and eventually you realize that you're on your way out, wishing for one reason to stay.
Then all of a sudden, just as you call your job a total loss of a year, something happens to make it all worth it. A very shy person with a very low profile, a few departments to the left, suddenly jumps out of the woodwork for no apparent reason. A perfectly demure personality. A physique almost too stunning and sinful to look at (in a workplace, that is). An air of mystery and intrigue about him— way too curious to just ignore and forget.
I was on my way out with one week to go (already having submitted my resignation), and maybe this was why I only now noticed this Mr. Mystery in a different light than before. He would still pass me in the hallway and look away without ever saying hello and without smiling. This was perfectly fine with me, because I realized that it went with his personality, which until now, I never bothered contemplating. He rarely talked to anyone. I did see him smile on rare occasions, and that smile was like sunlight breaking through a wall of clouds. No one else in the office could match that smile.
Someone mentioned to me that this guy was fresh off the boat (Asian), and fresh out of college, hardly 22 or 23 tops. To most people, that would be believable enough, but not for me. I couldn't dismiss him as a foreign student with almost an entire generation gap between us. But I guess I would never know for sure, and I am not one to start probing others with Grease-era questions.
Then, the Monday before I resigned, I was literally forced into a first-time conversation with so-called Mr. Fresh-off-the-Boat. It turned out that a long-term project of mine had suddenly broken, and he was the person on the other side of the project all along. After I sent an email to that department, it was he that replied, offering to help. So, I walked over to his desk, silently chuckling at the odds of this happening.
He was very friendly, seemed to know his job, and spoke perfect English with a nice voice, as I had suspected. Very GQ, and growing on me with each passing moment. So much for the other chump with the "fresh off the boat" comment. But, this guy was also visibly bored. I knew this personality. I've seen it dozens of times before. Mr. GQ must be older than 22 or 23 and perhaps even embarrassed to be working there. And, there must be a good reason for it.
The very next morning, after a quick jog, I was finishing up in the locker room of our office complex and chatting with my co-worker, who also works out in the morning, showers going in the background. Bearing his torso, this co-worker looked pretty good— a martial arts dabbler. He dressed, then left. Seconds later, a shower turned off, and out stepped Mr. GQ, catching me totally off-guard. For whatever reason, I instinctively looked away and immediately moved in the other direction, over to the sink. This was an old reaction (from those closet years) to being overwhelmed by the sight of a dripping wet Adonis.
Somewhere in there, my heart had skipped a few beats. I slipped out of that locker room, relieved in the least that he was totally clueless as to my sexual orientation. That was easily the steamiest locker-room incident in years. I now felt 20 years younger, and I tried to just forget it. I would be gone in a few days, and this Mr. Adonis will fade into a haze of obscurity.
Not yet. At the end of that day, I was ready to leave with my carpool mate on the other side of the floor. As I walked over to meet him, there stood Mr. Adonis with his backpack, talking to my carpool driver. I learned that he would be riding up to San Francisco with us, and he seemed in a very good mood. I would actually get to know him a little, outside the confines of the office. The odds were millions to one. I had never expected this, and I obviously looked forward to it.
As we darted toward foggy San Francisco, the three of us shot the breeze about everything. I found out that he learned Tae Kwon Do and was now teaching it, which now explains that otherworldly physique of his. Totally hot, and totally disciplined. He volunteered his age when the other carpooler asked it. Around 30 years old. Hotter still. He went to college in the U.S., as I had figured. No generation gap, no language barriers, minimal cultural barriers, WOW. And, it seemed as though he was directing these little revelations about himself toward me, as if he knew something was already brewing within me. Go right ahead, I thought! Then, as we discussed musical instruments, he mentioned that he plays the guitar.
I melted. By this time, I was not only impressed, but I was totally turned on. I did a pretty good job at hiding it, but Mr. Adonis, sitting right behind me, was swimming around in my head, and I was loving it. Anyone who knows me knows that I am an instrumentalist, and I have a soft spot for other musicians. As we pulled up to our drop-off spot, I was at a loss of words. I couldn't just ask Mr. Adonis out for coffee, that would not only be inappropriate, but also crude. Maybe I could tell him I'm resigning and offer my phone number for the sake of "business networking." Hmmmm. The car was slowing to a stop, and our carpool driver asked Mr. Adonis how he was getting home.
He said he would just walk to the BART station, and his girlfriend Anita will pick him up on the other side.
A Tae Kwon Do teacher, a guitarist, a programmer, and a smile that doth light the darkest night. And a girlfriend.
Just as well. At this point, I should have felt hollow, but I certinaly was not. I became even happier that he found what sounded like a great partner.
I doubt that Mr. Adonis will ever realize just how gorgeous, humble, self-sufficient, and admirable he really is. But I do, and I am certain that his girlfriend does too.
Thank you for leaving me with a great memory by which to remember this job, always.
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by AZcowboy |
posted July 12th, 2005 around 07:40 AM
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A girlfriend? You're sure? That's not how I pictured it in my head. :( I'm glad you didn't go on and on how you were going to change his mind and try to bring him over to our team. I have some friends that go for the straight guys to see what they can get them to do? I always tell them they are playing with fire.
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by stan3324 |
posted July 12th, 2005 around 07:39 AM
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hey, thanks for the comment.
kobe was great, and i'm glad to be back in bangkok. i can't wait to go home to nyc later this year.
fun blog, by the way! i suppose some of the great guys had to be straight too. haha.
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kind of sad
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by thor_progeny |
posted July 12th, 2005 around 07:35 AM
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That this instinctive, combustible energy doesn't register within the object of our dreams/affection/interest really shows how much we exist in the solitude of our own heads. The tale of the oblivious straight guy who got away is so common... How can we even relate as human beings when there's no return on such a basic level? We handle it... we're glad he's partnered off with someone and we wish him the best... and all the while he has no idea he has triggered neurochemical fires in someone yearning to be an intimate part of his world. This is sort of a sad story, you know.
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by vanguard |
posted July 6th, 2005 around 01:52 PM
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I can't tell you how often I've fallen for the straight guy...sucks! But very entertaining post.
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STEAMY
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by Samuel P |
posted July 6th, 2005 around 01:07 PM
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Oh god, now you've got ME turned on. I was on the edge of my seat... heartbreaking, huh?
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