Being in a tech company, in New England, predisposes you to being around really … homely women. Put it simply – it’s just not Cali.
So naturally, as the new hire, I’m deadly curious whether there’s any hot girls (girls meaning my age, not that I demean women on a regular basis) at work. I’m lucky enough to have an office with a window, so I get a nice scenic view of our parking lot. One day, I swear I saw a hot girl getting into a navy Impreza and pulling out. But she had on huge sunglasses and I couldn’t make a solid call.
Now I’ve moved into another office overlooking a different section of the parking lot. This morning, I’m working away, and then I see the navy Impreza roll by, with the same girl driving. Not enough time to get a good look. I say to myself, alright, you have to find out or else it’ll just bug you. Hot or not? So I try time leaving my office to walk toward the cafeteria to get my daily Diet Coke (is that worse than coffee? could be) so that I swing by the front lobby at the same time she’s entering the building. Creepy? I guess it would seem that way if you don’t know me. To defend myself, I’d have to say it’s my intense desire to be able to say to my friends, yeah, there is a hot chick at work. Anyways, I get down to the lobby only to hear the door toward the other wing of the building close. Aaghh. Musta just missed her. Well, still gotta get that Diet Coke.
So the truth is still out there.