Sunday, August 09, 2009

the five stages of grief

For the last two weeks, I have been reduced to acting like ditzy sixteen-year old girl with a giant crush—giggles included. The object of all this affection is a delicious young trainee who has a body to die for. For the week that I spoke to him, I was convinced that he had a thing for me too, which made me pay more attention to my clothes, my hair and my general demeanour. He was my reason to go to work (besides work of course).

Sadly for me, I have only just found out that he has a giant crush on this really tall Amazon girl who has the personality of a gnat’s arse and the fashion sense of a 60-year old woman. She also walks like she has an invisible pair of wobbly stilettos on. When I heard, my first reaction was—No, this cannot be true. This is Denial.

Now, mind you, I’m not that upset that he didn’t pick me. Ok, I’ll admit I am a tad upset, but I am more perturbed by the lady-giraffe he chose over me. Not often does a gorgeous man walk into my office, and honestly, he would have at least 3-4 fairly hot ladies to pick from, and she would never qualify, not in the top 10 even. This is called Anger.

But he picked her.
He’s gone out with her, they talk on the phone they chat on Facebook and heaven only knows what else they’ve done outside of the office. I know all these tit-bits because of the multiple spies I have planted in every corner of the office—mostly because initially I wouldn’t take no for an answer. Bargaining?

I know all this is none of my business, but it physically hurts me to know that I have been outwitted by a dim-wit, that I have been sidelined by a floozy, that I have been disregarded for an Amazonian with zero charm. What’s worse is they are just such an odd looking couple to look at—He is 5ft nothing, it’s like a chiwawa dating a lion. The stage is called Depression

After being suitably outraged and comforted by my close friends who called her nasty names to appease me I have decided that he’s no catch either. He’s short, he’s not very smart (when I made a joke, he didn’t get it and I had to explain it slowly to him until he finally got it and gave me a half chuckle. Oh, and he called me a ‘mannequin’ because I am so ‘animated’. Duh!)

And at last comes the Acceptance.
I have accepted the fact that they are meant for each other. Why? Because basically, when they come together they have one brain between them. That’s a plus right?

8 comments:

??! said...

*chihuahua.

What's with you and picking all these idiot types? Surely you should be better at spotting them by now na? (asked in a very encouraging, not belittling, tone)

Spazsim Chasm said...

ahh, spelling errors. I hate those dogs, weird little things with weird complicated names...

yes, i should know better. But my eyes were glazed over by his delicious body and his smell... I put my hand on his shoulder once, and the fragrance was amazing! Dammit.

Oh and the woman has just sunk to a new low in fashion... she's wearing a long bar dancer skirt with a see-through pyjama top... it's too much for me to handle!

thanks for the encouraging tone tho :)

Roy said...

a was laughing as I read the post; after reading you comment, I am LMAO!
Pain makes writers of all of us.

Citrus said...

The bodies, they do get distracting no?

Spazsim Chasm said...

Very distracting...
gosh, i wish i could put up a picture... but i may get into trouble if he ever found out...
a stalker i am not!

Vee said...

I can quite picture what this hottie looks like....but from what I understand, this woman's a whore...chuck it...if he's interested in her he really is a pimp! And those transparent clothes...I know those types!

??! said...

i may get into trouble if he ever found out

Ehh - edit his face out and put the snap up. We deserve the right to judge your choices.

Spazsim Chasm said...

Kim! I can't edit his face out... it's the 8-pack that makes him recognizable... hubba hubba...