Recently, I'd discovered a picture of one of my co-workers, a lady named Giana, online.
I know. Big Deal. People post pictures of themselves, family, the dog (not that dogs aren't part of the family - they are in mine)... but this picture was a bit different.
It was a picture of her, looking at the camera, her shirt off for all to see. She had a magnificent chest, and she'd decided to show it off. And while surfing around, I'd discovered it.
And been fascinated.
I'd tried to be good - but my cock, as usual had other ideas - and it had talked my hand into co-operating with its nefarious deeds (the scalliwag!). I'd shut the door to my office, and "taken matters in hand".
And then I'd done something potentially stupid.
I'd sent her what passed for a subtle fan letter in email:
"Giana,
In the course of my duties, I have added the site www.ratemyrack.com to the blocked list. The content of that site is inappropriate for the workplace, and some of the content particularly inappropriate, however deeply appealing.
Regards,
Seth"
I'd hit the send key... and then mumbled "what the hell did I just do?".
I could have been smart, and kept my mouth shut. I could have just enjoyed my single jpg of her breasts. I could have surreptitiously glanced at her chest whenever we were in meetings together (well, unless I was presenting - I was not about to stand in front of a Director-level group of people with a raging erection in my trousers, after all...).
But no. Smart-ass me had to let her know that I knew - that there was at least one person inside her company who had discovered her secret. Now, granted - there was no possible way that she could get into any kind of official trouble, since what she did on her off-time was her own business, and out of the company jurisdiction. On the other hand, the company gossip train would have departed the station with a full load... the proverbial hostile work environment.
Granted, I really HAD added the site to the blocking list... at least if anyone else found out, they'd have to be doing it from home...
What had I been thinking?
And more to the point... what was she thinking?
Fortunately - well, OK, very unfortunately, but still - there were enough tactical emergencies with a router failure and an DDOS attack (thats Distributed Denial Of Service attack, for the acronym-impaired) so that I didn't have a lot of time to give it a lot of thought. Well, the router had merely been mis-configured in a subtle way, and the DDOS attack was - relatively - easily defeated, with the log files and so forth sent to the Feds for evaluation (DDOS attacks almost always cross state lines, and usually mean that the unwitting hosts have been hacked as well - and while I'd be interested in following up, the Federal efforts at cyber-crime-busting are well-funded) before I got back to my desk to check email.
And Lo! I had a response from Giana.
I opened it with not a little nervousness, and read the one-word reply.
"Coffee?".
I quickly sent back a response, equally eloquent...
"Sure"
And again, a waiting game. This time, my schedule was painfully, agonizingly free. I didn't even have the ticking of an analog clock to keep me company - all the chronomation for the offices were entirely digital. It was like some cheap carnival trick to stretch time, where the magician kicks you in the balls and asks "Notice how every second seems like an eternity?"
After about three hundred eternities - give or take a geological epoch - I got her invitation.
"Shall we go over to BB at 3pm?"
BB was the company-wide initials for Bean Bandit, a small cafe located kitty-corner from the office, across the street. Coffee breaks often started at our front door and ended on a tour of their facility, usually with some sort of caffeinated beverage being purchased and consumed. They did all kinds of other snacky-things, and even had a small deli counter - they were the only real snack shack without driving a short distance, and hardware/software jocks are not renowned for their patience.
I left early, at 2.45pm. I ordered a double-size Cafe Mocha (non-fat milk, no whip cream for the truly interested), and settled back into the corner table, my back to the wall.
Kind of a good metaphor for how I was feeling, mind you...
She arrived a trifle late. She saw me, smiled, and immediately turned away to the counter. More suspense. Apparently she was a Chai fan, and gave no thought to eating a blueberry muffin right in front of me. Nerves of steel, that woman.
She carried drink and snack to my table, and joined me.
"Sorry I'm a little late" she began.
"No problem" I mumbled.
"I went over to see if you were in your office so we could walk over together" she explained, somehow making my prior departure an act of cowardice.
Which, of course, it had been - but how dare she tell me so!
"I wanted to make sure that I had a chance to barricade myself in, and use this... " I said, indicating my mocha " ...to screw up my courage." I grinned as I said it, making a joke of reality. My shyness was very real, but as I'd been over-compensating for it since the age of twelve, embarrassment and nervousness and I were a familiar threesome. I'd often found that being forthright, even - no, especially - about embarrassing things was both the quickest way through my swamp of self-mortification, and the best way to disarm people with the humor therein.
Surprisingly, it worked all the time.
"I got your email" she began, somewhat unnecessarily. "Thank you for adding the site to your blocking doohickey". I smiled at her technical assessment; although she was sharp as a tack, a deep technical expertise beyond "Can you make this work for me?" wasn't a part of Giana's toolkit.
Her radiant smile was, apparently. I lacked immunity.
