Tidying things up...

Since I've last blogged, people have been asking if I might have made up the story about the Mufti and the nipple-sucking. Sadly, I had not, I only wish I had that kind of sharp rhetorical wit. Unfortunately, the said Mufti has been forced to swallow his words and recant; no religion-sanctioned sessions with the Sec for me, but I *did* have a conversation with her. That's right, two days ago we exchanged 1.5 paragraphs worth of words. It went like this:

Me: "Uhm, hi... so, uh, you do modelling work in your spare time, right?"

Sec: "Yeah, maybe, sure... how did you know?"

Me: Mummbles (what the fuck was I supposed to say? That I worship her from across the office but haven't had the courage to say 2 words?)

Sec: "Well, yeah I do"

Me: "You know there are these people in Kuwait looking for some models for a catalogue shoot..."

Sec: "A what?"

Me: "A catalogue shoot you know... with, uhm, traditional Arabic clothes on and that kind of thing."

Silence. I turn my gaze to the corner of the room, where the bathroom is. It's only a minute before somebody walks through that door, I think, and then they're going to want to know why I'm not at my desk. They'll be wondering why I'm standing at Sec's desk, how I know she's a model. Maybe THE BOSS is a jealous freak who has his eyes on her and will kill me for even trying to make contact... SHIT!!

OK, things are good. She wants to know more...

Me: "Well, have you heard of Facebook, you see it's this thing, kind of like hi5, which I saw your photos on, but it's less smutty, you see" ....SHIT, I've just told her I think she's a smutty whore for being on hi5. FUCK. NICE ONE.

Sec: "Yeah I know, I'm on Facebook already, see here it is"

She clears off some tabbed windows of solitaire, some Arab music download portals and a few MSN instant messaging conversations. Who needs to work when you look so good?

This is not what I was hoping for. In my mind's eye, she would have come to MY desk, and I could've showed off my 40 wpm typing skills (that kind of shit impresses secretaries, right?), and my ability to distinguish social networking sites.
"Oh, you type so fast..."
"Yes, yes I do..." I say as I look into her eyes from the seat, touch-typing while melting her heart with a few twitches of my nose...and then we kiss and embrace, and get fired. SHIT! End of fantasy.

Sec: "So, yeah, where do I go now?"

Me: Long list of meaningless instructions... can't really grab her mouse and move the Facebook screen for her, can I? Who's going to understand what I just said? But she does!!

She's got it!

Sec: "Hmmm... haven't heard that name...but here's a number, thanks".

Gets back to playing solitaire.

Me:"OK, take care"

Sec: SMILES.

Ah, all in a good day's work. Yes, yes and I confirm I spoke to her 2 days later, and I asked her if she called. She said no. OK.