I was in a deep sleep when the phone rang on Sunday morning. It had been a productive but typically night of coding, and my brain was craving sleep. The shrill ring of the phone broke the precious silence and caused me to spring to as seated position. I grabbed the phone reluctantly and found that it was Trish on the other end. Trish is a coworker at the bank and a partner of sorts on many intricate projects. She is both a close friend and fierce competitor, smart and sexy and clearly in big trouble. It is bonus time, the time of the year when compensation is determined based on performance, and we are in the midst of the most important project we had ever worked on.
We had taken a modular approach, choosing a convergence point at which point we would plug our two components together to form a working system. I had finished and tested my part successfully last night. Trish was stuck. She waited until the last minute and was now panicking that she would not finish in time. Her bonus depended on successful completion by tomorrow.
"You have to drag your ass in here and help me!" she said as I struggled to comprehend the situation. Trish would be just one of the guys if it were not for how good she looked with long blonde hair usually in a loose scrunchee, a medium build with lots of curves, and striking blue eyes. "and if you wont help me then fuck you." She also curses like a sailor with a deep southern drawl and for me it just adds to the mystique. At age forty-something, she has seen the world and knows which parts she likes and doesn't like. "How bad?" I inquired. "Just get here fast." she responded.
Dragging myself out of bed, I hopped in the shower and pulled on some shorts and a tee-shirt. It was hot outside and by the time I got to the car, I was already sweating. When I arrived at the office, the inside of the building was sweltering hot. No air-conditioning on the weekends. Yet another plus.
When I walked into the cubicle, I found Trish sitting in front of the computer completely surrounded with piles of documents in every direction. She is dressed in shorts, a tanktop, and barefoot. It is hot in the office, and she is sweating as she works. It is always funny to see someone that you usually see dressed for business now dressed for leisure. It somehow feels out of context. Her nails are chewed down to the nailbed, but she sports a deep, dark perfect pedicure, a stark contrast to her pale skin. She and I work closely on a daily basis, yet now I see her in a different way. A way that kind of make things stir in my pants. As she sees me, you can see the anguish and relief in her eyes. "Its about time you got here. I'm dying here." she says. She gets up and I sit at the computer. We dig in to her problem. Several hours pass.