Project O.C.

He started working here around the same time I did. His office was down the hall from mine so I’d overhear his (occasionally) witty banter with his boss and began to admire his haughty but jovial demeanor. “Looks like he used to be fat,” my co-worker whispered once. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I had a crazy Office Crush on this guy. The antithesis of any guy I had ever been attracted to, I found myself excited and a little giddy when we’d happen past each other in the hallway.

Our solitary interaction, aside from “excuse me” and “I’m sorry” in the halls, was in the elevator.
OC: Do you know if it’s raining?
L: I’m not sure. I hope not, I forgot my umbrella.

It was love… clearly.

Two and a half years later and our only other exchange was an alcohol-induced lingering glance at an office retirement party. Until today.

I was in the kitchen at the microwave, waiting for my tea to heat up. He was at the sink. I overheard him start to rib a fellow football fan for the Steelers’ staggering loss to my favorite NFL team, the Oakland Raiders. “They lost to the Raiders!” he exclaimed. I had to laugh. He caught me.

“I’m sorry,” I began with a grin, “But I’m a Raiders fan and that game was priceless.”
The banter began (albeit, two other co-workers were chatting with us, as well) and I found myself ruddy cheeked, grinning, joking, hilaaaarious. And once again I played the part of unlikely-female-football-fan. I like to think he was smitten.

Later in the day I heard two men talking at the end of the hall. “How about those Steelers, huh?”
Mutter, mutter, mutter. “Lauren? Really? The Raiders? Oooh, I’ll have to talk to her later about that.”
Project Office Crush to Office Romance commence.