Love Is So Totally NOT In The Air

Office romances, though generally frowned upon, have been proven to actually be quite healthy...even if a mite undesirable from the corporation's liable standpoint.

That being said, if you are the type of chick who smokes (and carries) pot at all times, snorts coke (and discloses said info to casual co-workers in the break room), are emotionally unstable and coping with a break up from one dude, are prone to fuck on the first not-even-a-date and were voted "most likely to have 27 cats" and were named Miss Bunny Boiler 2006...

...sleeping with the owner-of-the-company's son the first time you hang out is pretty much a horrible tragedy waiting to happen. (Though likely wildly entertaining for some of us to observe...)

...especially if you are also the sort of chick who thinks that work is a sorority and that co-workers are friends and you have been deemed incapable of telling the difference.

You can imagine my dismay when within the first 8 hours of meeting my precious little colleague I was given (without request) the autobiography (in 4000 words or more) of this little nightmare's insane and dysfunctional romantic life.

YIKES!

TMI much?

After vomiting her sad little details to me, a complete stranger, she then asks for my opinion.

...A clear sign that she is completely unaware, if not a bit off her bleepin' rocker.

I told her that she didn't want my opinion because I lacked filters when it comes to trivial things like giving my opinion on others' romantic dysfunction.

She giggled.

It was really quite adorable how she thought I was joking.

Come on. She had just told me that upon her and her LT boyfriend breaking up she hung out with the boss' son, got wasted and screwed him; she then dated him (in her mind) for a few weeks before "breaking up" with him via text message while he was at a function with his dad...her boss...the company owner.

I mean, "DERRRRRR!"

That is simply 20 different kinds of wrong! It just screams that she is begging for a bitch slap.

"B-b-b-b-but we have this connection!" she tried to convince me regarding him. "He has a lot going on and he said he didn't want anything serious but he is such a good friend I don't want to lose him...." (Said in the whiniest voice EVER!)

"Wait", I say. "He said he didn't want anything serious?"

"Mmmm-hmmm", she replied.

"He told you that prior to sleeping with you?"

"Yeah...."

"There's your answer."

"Huh?"

"He told you he didn't want anything serious and you were in an emotional state and drunk and slept with him anyway. Any relationship after he made the statement was a figment of your imagination, hon."

(It's cute how I added the "hon" in there to soften the blow, isn't it?)

She blinked at me.

"I know it's a tough pill to swallow, but he was upfront with you. His only mistake was not seeing/caring that you were in an acute emotional state and that he should not "close the deal". Basically, he's an ass and you were stupid. That being said, now that you have thrown a tantrum and called him repeatedly and 'broke up' with him in such a dramatic fashion, it would really be best that you just back right off and accept it. Let him make the next move, but do not get your hopes up."

She gushed some faux admiration for my bitchy little insight when I'm sure she was really jinxing my karma and started talking about her former cocaine addiction, how she loves LSD and after 10 times you are considered "legally psychotic" and that she has done it 42 times and still experiences flashbacks and tremors and how her sister is a recovering heroine addict. (The part about people being legally psychotic is a well known urban legend...of which she seems completely unaware and may be using it as a crutch for her genuine psychosis and absolute stupidity.)

(...such an adorable family image I have in my head...)

I made a mental note to call my mother later that day and thank her for not doing drugs and only being a clinically insane abandoner who loved me enough to let my grandparents raise me while she moved way far, far away.

I had originally thought that she gushed to me because I was new and she was nervous. I later realized that she engaged in aforementioned stupidity on a regular basis closer to hourly.

She is incapable of making good choices.

I feel sorry for her...but not enough to care. There are far too many people out there to help who actually want to make changes.

One day she is rambling on to me about the blow she scored while partying with some band she stalks and I wonder from which drug is she allegedly recovered? Clearly not coke or pot. LSD perhaps?

I shake my head.

I have no time or patience for this type of person.

Later I will walk into the break room to hear her telling the story of her romance with the owner's son to a group of female co-workers.

OY! Does she not grasp the concept of vaginae and gossip?!?!?

"We have such a connection! I just need to give him some space and he'll come around. Right, Cory?"

She beams a big clueless smile my way.

I smile my tight-lipped smile (that she does not yet know the meaning of) and go about my business.

In my head I wonder how awkward it would be to contact a complete stranger and advise him to look into a restraining order for "that one chick" he banged at the office.

'Tis the season for psychotropics, m'friend....errrr....casual co-worker whom I will never publicly admit to knowing!