Sign 1: A guy approaches a new girl and discusses gifts for his “sister.” Any suggestions? A conversation and acquaintanceship is formed.
Sign 2: Then the guy approaches the girl to discuss going out for drinks. He is going to try to get others to come he says. Til later in the week…
Sign 3: Day of said drink outing arrives. Whoops, no one else is around. I will see what I can do guy says. Later in the day, an email conversation is begun by the guy to discuss drinks. Hey, still no one else is around…weird. Instead of rescheduling, I’ll just wait here and play solitaire on my computer until you are ready to leave to go get drinks, just you and me.
Sign 4: A bystander giggles and tells new girl that someone has a crush! Who she asks? Me? She says looking “confused” with her best “what are you talking about silly” face. “No…Who do you think?,” bystander says, “I was a guy once before I got married and got my balls chopped off.” Hmmm…little inappropriate, yet true, new girl thinks to herself.
Moment of Crushing Reality and Embarrassment of Self: While walking to the bar, in the midst of conversation new girl asks the guy if he lives alone. Following a short yet slightly awkward pause guy says, “No, right now I am actually living with my girlfriend.” Um…oops. Confusion ensues, but new girl moves on with what she hopes was an “oh totally cool whatever” vibe.
Looking for something on the side? Just being a guy and not picking up on what he was putting down? Just being friendly to the new work girl with no friends? I am opting to pick one of the later options and move on while hoping to add a new person to my guy friend roster. Still…I can’t help but feel a little thrown.
PS. Rain, a 15 minute late train, stressful emails from boss at 6 a.m., an annoying UPS package that requires a signature while I’m not home, a baby screaming on the late subway train all add up to OMG EVERYTHING today. Law of Attraction says think happy thoughts…this must be why people take prescription drugs.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Thursday, September 25, 2008
In a Dramatic Attempt
In a dramatic attempt to learn cute no name’s name following yet another conversation about possibly getting drinks in approximately 1 hour 15 min I emailed the guy behind me:
Subject: shhhh
What is the guys name who was just at my desk? I don’t know all of people’s names yet! Whoops!
Him popping head up: “I don’t know I wasn’t looking!”
Me: “What?? Ahhhh…OK hold on…”
I sent another email with physical descriptors. He obediently replied with a guess for a name and ? Then I realized, even if he guessed correctly, I don’t know the name so how will I know if it is correct. I’m in quite a pickle.
UPDATE
I just got an email from no name. It has been solved. HOWEVER...it is a name that can be shortened thus STILL presenting a problem. One would think, if you were said no namer, that if I really knew who he was, I would indeed know if he preferred short or long version of the name. AHHHHH. I guess I am just going to have to go the "so do you like being called..." Sucks.
Subject: shhhh
What is the guys name who was just at my desk? I don’t know all of people’s names yet! Whoops!
Him popping head up: “I don’t know I wasn’t looking!”
Me: “What?? Ahhhh…OK hold on…”
I sent another email with physical descriptors. He obediently replied with a guess for a name and ? Then I realized, even if he guessed correctly, I don’t know the name so how will I know if it is correct. I’m in quite a pickle.
UPDATE
I just got an email from no name. It has been solved. HOWEVER...it is a name that can be shortened thus STILL presenting a problem. One would think, if you were said no namer, that if I really knew who he was, I would indeed know if he preferred short or long version of the name. AHHHHH. I guess I am just going to have to go the "so do you like being called..." Sucks.
Monday, September 22, 2008
That’s Nice, and You Are?
When you are new, and most likely on your very first day, a staffer takes one for the team and walks the newbie around the office to, in old school office language-show him/her the ropes. This is a humorous display for the non-newbies because it is entertaining to watch this person be dragged around the office, have to explain who they are 20 times, smile and shake, smile and shake some more, get dozens of names and job descriptions thrown at them, and then smile and shake.
The problem occurs when you start seeing one of the people/ persons that you were introduced to on that fateful walk about the office and they know your name, as you are said newbie, but you have no clue what theirs is. Not a clue. Not even an inkling. Maybe you so far as to not even remember their face and/ or department. I met you? You work here?
This has happened to me more than a few times, but two stick out as a continuing issue. And each conversation leaves me with that pink elephant in the room feeling.
1. After work hours invitation guy
I think it was the end of my second week and a guy that I had run into in the coffee room approached my desk. We had already shared brief conversations relating to “how am I doing” and “wow subway was crazy today huh.” All in which he said my name and I nodded with complete knowledge that I had no clue who he was. I kept this to myself, now regretting that decision. Basically, this guy came over to my desk and invited me to a Friday night show to see a band that he had an extra ticket for. I don’t think it was necessarily a date invite, as it wasn’t quite delivered in the “I am asking you out” way. However, I claimed other plans, which I actually did have, and still do not know his name. And still run into him.
2. Guy who I really wish I did know his name
Why you ask? Because he is cute. I met him on my second day and will randomly run into him at other times throughout the office. Up until last week we just shared a smile and hi acquaintance relationship but recently we have begun to actually strike up conversations. It is now to the point that I would feel really weird and rude asking him his name. This morning, ironically, a lady called him Henry. Turns out its an inside joke because she thinks he looks like one but he doesn’t like the name. Funny, cute, not fair- because I still don’t know the real name. At least I can rule one out.
The problem occurs when you start seeing one of the people/ persons that you were introduced to on that fateful walk about the office and they know your name, as you are said newbie, but you have no clue what theirs is. Not a clue. Not even an inkling. Maybe you so far as to not even remember their face and/ or department. I met you? You work here?
This has happened to me more than a few times, but two stick out as a continuing issue. And each conversation leaves me with that pink elephant in the room feeling.
1. After work hours invitation guy
I think it was the end of my second week and a guy that I had run into in the coffee room approached my desk. We had already shared brief conversations relating to “how am I doing” and “wow subway was crazy today huh.” All in which he said my name and I nodded with complete knowledge that I had no clue who he was. I kept this to myself, now regretting that decision. Basically, this guy came over to my desk and invited me to a Friday night show to see a band that he had an extra ticket for. I don’t think it was necessarily a date invite, as it wasn’t quite delivered in the “I am asking you out” way. However, I claimed other plans, which I actually did have, and still do not know his name. And still run into him.
2. Guy who I really wish I did know his name
Why you ask? Because he is cute. I met him on my second day and will randomly run into him at other times throughout the office. Up until last week we just shared a smile and hi acquaintance relationship but recently we have begun to actually strike up conversations. It is now to the point that I would feel really weird and rude asking him his name. This morning, ironically, a lady called him Henry. Turns out its an inside joke because she thinks he looks like one but he doesn’t like the name. Funny, cute, not fair- because I still don’t know the real name. At least I can rule one out.
Friday, September 19, 2008
The Big Apple Meets DW
So, I got the job that I referred to in the post below. I learned that the other candidate was a 40 something year old man. Feel a little bad about taking a job away from a man who could possibly have a family to feed, but…haha I win.
So I moved to New York City. I really thought this whole blog thing was over but with the changing seasons, my attention span is drawn back into writing and posting. My initial hesitation circulated around my life not containing interesting enough material, but as I stood on the train this morning getting sway humped into a half asleep pot-bellied man by an asian lady holding Starbucks I thought to myself, I am sure I could pull something together for a post each day.
When you move to New York you immediately try to identify yourself more with the “natives” than the “tourists”. Although buying a subway card and catching a speeding cab are daily activities that are still foreign to you, you attempt to the best of your ability to act like it is something you have been doing everyday for as long as you can remember. When you are actually a local and paying God knows how much money to BE a local, the last thing you want is for people to think you are NOT a local.
I am beginning to find that certain stereotypes held by the different NYC neighborhoods are actually quite spot on. For example, right now I live in the upper west section of Harlem. You begin a cab ride on the lower ends of the west side and as you gradually work your way up, lets just say I know when I am getting closer to home. And men do listen to old school R&B and play chess on fold out tables and chairs outside the subway stop. And non-English speaking people do try to force the Metro newspaper in your face each morning―don’t you remember me from yesterday and every other day- I DON’T WANT ONE! (Everyone is nice though…that is actually a stereotype that is not true- most often, if you are nice, they will be nice)
Another example, my roommate K and I went to West Elm to buy a new rug. We were not so pleasantly graced with the presence of a not as attractive version of Will and Grace at the check out counter next to us. In a quite unsuccessful attempt to purchase a curtain rod, the pair asked for pretty much every box of that particular item that they had in the store. Grace proceeded to examine every piece in the box and conclude that every single box of that item in the store was missing a piece. I may be wrong, but one could assume that since every box was “missing” this piece, it could be that Grace is actually mildly retarded and not that the West Elm factory managed to forget the same exact piece when putting together 20 boxes of that particular curtain rod. Anyways, the store and the surrounding streets appeared to be graced with a lot of Wills. Upon glancing at the West Elm business card conveniently located at the check out counter it all began to make sense. “K check this out,” I pointed to the business card that read “West Elm, Chelsea.” K responded, “OHHHHHHH. So that is where we are. Well that makes sense.” Not that anything is wrong with that, but it did make more sense.
The job is going well thus far, however I must add that this is day 20 of the new job and also marks the first day that I decided to not do my hair. From what I can remember, it all starts to go down hill from here. First you quit doing your hair, then you start blogging in the middle of the day (check and check), then you start “forgetting” to put eyeliner on, then you say screw it, wet hair it is…you catch my drift. But we’ll see, I would like this inevitable process to go as slow as possible thus to keep up the facade that I actually do not mind coming to the same place every day from 9-5 and am doing professionally well. More to come…
So I moved to New York City. I really thought this whole blog thing was over but with the changing seasons, my attention span is drawn back into writing and posting. My initial hesitation circulated around my life not containing interesting enough material, but as I stood on the train this morning getting sway humped into a half asleep pot-bellied man by an asian lady holding Starbucks I thought to myself, I am sure I could pull something together for a post each day.
When you move to New York you immediately try to identify yourself more with the “natives” than the “tourists”. Although buying a subway card and catching a speeding cab are daily activities that are still foreign to you, you attempt to the best of your ability to act like it is something you have been doing everyday for as long as you can remember. When you are actually a local and paying God knows how much money to BE a local, the last thing you want is for people to think you are NOT a local.
I am beginning to find that certain stereotypes held by the different NYC neighborhoods are actually quite spot on. For example, right now I live in the upper west section of Harlem. You begin a cab ride on the lower ends of the west side and as you gradually work your way up, lets just say I know when I am getting closer to home. And men do listen to old school R&B and play chess on fold out tables and chairs outside the subway stop. And non-English speaking people do try to force the Metro newspaper in your face each morning―don’t you remember me from yesterday and every other day- I DON’T WANT ONE! (Everyone is nice though…that is actually a stereotype that is not true- most often, if you are nice, they will be nice)
Another example, my roommate K and I went to West Elm to buy a new rug. We were not so pleasantly graced with the presence of a not as attractive version of Will and Grace at the check out counter next to us. In a quite unsuccessful attempt to purchase a curtain rod, the pair asked for pretty much every box of that particular item that they had in the store. Grace proceeded to examine every piece in the box and conclude that every single box of that item in the store was missing a piece. I may be wrong, but one could assume that since every box was “missing” this piece, it could be that Grace is actually mildly retarded and not that the West Elm factory managed to forget the same exact piece when putting together 20 boxes of that particular curtain rod. Anyways, the store and the surrounding streets appeared to be graced with a lot of Wills. Upon glancing at the West Elm business card conveniently located at the check out counter it all began to make sense. “K check this out,” I pointed to the business card that read “West Elm, Chelsea.” K responded, “OHHHHHHH. So that is where we are. Well that makes sense.” Not that anything is wrong with that, but it did make more sense.
The job is going well thus far, however I must add that this is day 20 of the new job and also marks the first day that I decided to not do my hair. From what I can remember, it all starts to go down hill from here. First you quit doing your hair, then you start blogging in the middle of the day (check and check), then you start “forgetting” to put eyeliner on, then you say screw it, wet hair it is…you catch my drift. But we’ll see, I would like this inevitable process to go as slow as possible thus to keep up the facade that I actually do not mind coming to the same place every day from 9-5 and am doing professionally well. More to come…
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)