SWING and a miss!
I love going to corporate.
It's not just the palatial, well-appointed office that I have there. It's not the important feel of the place, or the idea that critical work is being done all around you. No, I like the idea that this is not my regular office, and that I have, for lack of a better term, an excuse for not doing my usual amount of work.
It's Monday, November 22. I drove down last night instead of flying, so I'd have my car and be able to leave whenever I want.
Dan Johnson doesn't have anything in particular that he needs me to do, but he wants me to shadow him for most of the day. He always says that, and he always ends up telling me to do something else. "Gimme a minute," he'll say, picking up the phone, and I'll be on my own for the rest of the day.
10:15. I am walking down a narrow corridor and, turning a corner, all I see is legs; firm, muscled, white-stockinged legs, in two-inch heels.
She's bent over the third drawer of a file cabinet, her curly auburn hair dangling past her shoulders.
She's wearing a tiny pink skirt and matching button-down sweater. Her ass is incredible.
She turns to look at me as I walk by. "Hi!" I say.
"Hi!" she smiles. "I'm Tiffany, from PWC!"
She's pretty. She's got big blue eyes and freckles. The skin on her arms is pale, almost pink.
"I'm Steve," I say. "Are you working on the acquisition?" I ask, even though I know she must be.
"Yeah, due diligence," she says. "Are you the DM that was coming here today?"
"Yes." I never give out my title unless I have to.
"You seem awfully young for a DM."
"How young do I seem?" I say, smiling. I am sure to look right at her as I say it.
She blushes. "Not THAT young," she laughs.
"Oh, ok. So how long are you in town for?" I love asking this question. If she's from out of town, she'll give me an answer, and I'll know how long I have to nail her; if she's local, she'll tell me that, too.
"I live here," she says.
"I'd hate living here. No place to shower."
She smiles. "No, this is a very nice office, actually."
She seems interested enough. Let's see where we stand.
"Listen, I better run," I say. "It's nice talking to you."
"You too, Steve!"
"Can I take you out for a drink later?"
She looks up at the ceiling. "Ummm, ok."
"Ummm, ok"? Not a ringing endorsement. But it's a yes.
We agree to meet at Pete's, a sports bar, at 8:00.
I get to Pete's around 8:15. No sign of Tiffany. I talk to a couple of drunk hockey fans until Monday Night Football comes on. I watch for a while, then check the time. 9:15.
Shit! She stood me up!
I finish my beer and watch the game until 10, then head back to the hotel. No sign of Tiffany.
**********
Tuesday, November 23. 9:05.
I pass Tiffany in the hallway on my way to a meeting. "Hi," I say, smiling.
I never show any reaction to a girl after I get stood up. I don't look pissed, or hurt, and I DEFINITELY don't ask what happened to her or where she was. I just act like I really don't give a shit either way.
"Hi, Steve," she smiles back. Both of us keep walking.
Wow! She didn't say anything. Maybe she forgot?
NFW. She is an auditor, which means she is methodical and thorough, with great attention to detail. She did NOT forget getting asked out.
10:30. I'm in my office. Tiffany drops off a report to me.
"I'm sorry about last night. I hope you're not mad."
"Don't worry about it," I smile.
"But I stood you up!"
"I'll live."
"So, are you gonna ask me out again?"
"No," I say.
"Oh."
Awkward silence. That's not how she wanted me to answer.
"Well, a bunch of us are going to Lotus House tonight, if you want to come."
"The Chinese place?"
"Yeah, they're doing Karaoke."
"I'll try to make it," I say, looking back down at my report.
"OK, see you there, hopefully."
Don't hold your breath. Bitch.
