Alert!! Code Blue!! Code Blue!!

It's been hard enough trying to get anything done today. My assistant just threw the whole office into a frenzy and we're not going to be able to recover. The day is just useless now.

She came back and asked if we could get an ATM. When I ask why she tells me that this guy came in and had to pay for something but didn't have his checkbook on him so he had to run to the bank. Apparently, the man was so hot she did not want to let him out of her sight. I immediately jumped in her shit for not sharing the hot! We are an office of all women. There should be some kind of alert in place and she must remember that I alert her to upcoming meetings I have with the hot account rep from the security company. Sister needs to give back some love.

Now that the rest of us are aprised of the situation, we're ready. So, Hottie McHotterson comes back and all of a sudden we are just a flurry of activity. One lady has to go drop off checks, another has to use the bathroom, another has to go mail something. I, in an act of sheer genius, decide to go put something in interoffice so I shove a near empty label sheet into an envelope and go up to put it in the out basket. This is the executive version of the "bend and snap."

I approach the desk and Mr. McHotterson is leaning on the reception desk doing a fine impersonation of John Wayne. Yes, indeed. All assessments were correct. Ho-ly shit. The man is smokin' hot. My assistant, who knews me all too well, is trying so hard not to laugh her ass off as I am the only one brave enough to actually approach the desk on the all female tour of shamelessness. Mr. McHotterson and I exchange a little chit chat and I head back to the kitchen to brag about how cool I am. I am the girl office equivalent of having just ran up and slapped the door to the Radley House! I ROCK! Note: I did not trip as I walked back there. I may have flipped my hair, though.

The kitchen is a total fit of giggles from women who are fanning themselves. Honestly, you would have thought we had all just gotten out of prison. Now we need to get back to work. It's not happening. We all start to crank down and then you just hear someone start giggling. We are worse than 12 year olds. We are totally pathetic. We are that Diet Coke commercial. We are desperate for interuption and entertainment. Thank you, Hottie McHotterson, I'm so sorry if someone screws up your billing and you have to come back in. Honestly.

Comments

[Deanna]

I'm so proud of you, Scout. Were you wearing britches?

[kellypea]

OMG my life is sooooo boring. Hottie Mc Hotterson. Hilarious. When you flipped your hair, did you ask him to "walk this way..." Bwahahahaha...

[Jenny Ryan]

Oh, I SO wish I could have been there to see!!

[DrowseyMonkey]

Too funny. Love the 'hair flip' ... very come hither of you.

[CaroG]

So y'all acted like a bunch of new parolees, huh? I see a lot of prison poetry coming outta this, boo! ;-)

(You didn't take a picture of Sir Hottie?)

[robert bourne]

an organised system for perving (oops male term there) is a must in any workplace acoded ring on the phone system works well...I have been employed where walkie talkies were used....anything to give the high sign to all and sundry who are interested...I don't suppose you you have a rating system do you?