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Can You Hear The Dumbs, Fernando? I�m usually the type of person that you need to hit over the head with one of those giant foam finger things before I get something that everyone understood five minutes ago. At least I am that way with �famous� people. I use parentheses because I don�t mean your Nicole Kidman/Jack Nicholson type of famous but the �famous� people that exist in your own workplace. The CEO, the Managing Director, people like that. When I first started at this job a bloke came around to talk to my boss and I said that he was out and if I could take a message. He said � �Sure, just get him to call me when he gets in�. He didn�t leave a name so I asked. It was the fricking Chairman. I can be slightly forgiven for not knowing though: Not many Chairman have mullets in my line of work. So here comes my recent daft-as moment. Yesterday a bloke was walking by and he asked if he could borrow my printer to print something out. He said his name but I was sort of in a I�m-working-and-conversation-escapes-me mode so I didn�t quite catch it. It wasn�t until I put the disk in that I thought to ask about it being virus checked. Silly me. I then made a lame joke. He said he was visiting from the Singapore office and that he was originally from the Chicago office (which I totally got from the moment he opened his mouth). So I printed the thing out for him and then he went about his merry business. He passed by my desk a few times (it�s a major thoroughfare) and kept thanking me for the use of the printer. I thought nothing of it. Then this morning he stopped at my desk and joked if it had any viruses yet. Then he asked me where he could find a certain department�s location. I pointed and smiled and did the good hostess type job. Now comes into effect the hitting me over the head with a giant sponge finger bit. As I headed to the toilets (cause all great thinking is done on the can, I swear) I thought � you know what, he�s not half bad. In fact, I�d say he�s pretty darn cute. Nice smile, polite, well structured (from what I could tell in that shirt, tie and pants). Then I tried to remember his name. Try as I might I could only come up with his first name. Fernando*. As I washed my hands at the sink I started to think maybe he slightly fancied me. It�s the bizarrest thought I�ve ever had in my head. Even after that fleeting moment of making a car out of cheese so you�d always have something to snack on. He could have asked reception where the department was. He�d come from that direction. But he asked me. Usually if someone likes me it takes six months and aforementioned giant foam finger to help me figure it out. That�s why this jumping to conclusions thing when it comes to matters of liking is so bizarre for me. We�ll just put that in the Tyd-you�re-insane basket shall we? Good. Cause what I�ve got to say next makes it highly improbable that he fancies me. Now we�d received an email that week from reception stating that some important people would be in town from Singapore and for everyone to be on their best behaviour and that all the meeting rooms were booked out. I just assumed that this bloke was one of those, but one of the lesser ones. I ran his first name through the finding-out-the-name-of-people section in Outlook. The CEO of Asia Pacific is the only Fernando* listed in Singapore that used to work in the Chicago office. The fricking CEO! But he�s so young and nice and oh dear. The whole office got an email from the CEO saying that he was holding drinks at a nearby pub and I didn�t go because I thought it was probably some stuffy old CEO type bloke. That�s cause it wasn�t until an hour ago that I figured out he of the nice smile and lovely eyes was in all likelihood the CEO. I could be the daftest, most non-observant person on the planet. *Name has been changed to protect the non-psycho and also to fit in with the slightly altered ABBA reference title. Tyd 29 January 2003 - 12:41 pm |
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