The Cool Spanish Guy I am working with, a Metrosexual?
And after all this, which was just an appetizer, let me talk about that little Hispanic guy at work. The cool Spanish guy, as described before. I think I have been flirting a bit too much with him, only because he let it happen. So how straight is he then? Today I had to fight Gloria twice, she was suggesting out loud that I was interested in him. I had to hit her a bit and call her some names out loud. Hopefully she will calm down.
Well, at least now the cool Spanish guy knows I am interested. It is most probably a tired long running joke in my back at work that I fancy him. I even think that the Director is involved, as at one point some days ago he said that he needed some sunlight, and he went to the Spanish guy and acted weird. As if the Spanish guy was some sort of illumination or positive force. And somehow, I feel this is all down to the fact that I feel it could be that way, and everyone knows.
I certainly like to look at him, he is the only thing that makes this whole job bearable. He usually wears sandals, he has big feet, and a nice face. He seems so pure and innocent, and childish, despite his 28 years. As I said before, there is nothing threatening in his eyes, he is totally genuine. And intelligent and quick. He comes to me to correct his English, can you believe, when his English must be twice better than mine.
I can just imagine what it would be like to be in his arms for one long big night. The Earth will stop turning, that’s for sure. Love would be written all over this special event. But before I get carried away, he is most probably straight, even if I have my doubts.
First he is too comfortable with my flirting, he had girlfriends before, and apparently he had a date last week with one of them. That does not look like someone incapable of accepting his homosexuality, it sounds more like a Metrosexual. Someone who is comfortable with the thought that men could be attracted to them, but ultimately would never go any further than flirting on the edge.
So I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t want either to become the clown of the office, by going for a lunch with him, whilst the only purpose would be to get back to the office to tell everyone whatever I might have implied.
He took two photos of me today, why? What was the purpose of this? Again, I am reading too much into this. It means nothing. But his interest in me seems to have gone higher since I started to wear my black jeans, and black polo shirts, and especially my black shoes. He seemed to think that I can be cool as well. And what he does not know, is that I am light years more cool than he is, so I think anyway.
He is 28 years old, he has nothing to show for it. He is definitely two dimensional. I think I have lived enough on this earth, and in so many countries, and written so much, that I am living in at least 10 dimensions.
Which means that I will have much more to give to him than he will ever have to give back in return. It would most likely be a one way relationship, I will give, he will take. This is how empty I see him. I could be wrong, but I doubt it. A man who’s only friends are the three insignificant girls surrounding me, cannot be that cool. Unless somehow these girls were more specials than I first assessed. Which I doubt very much.
The truth is that he could enjoy this flirtation for months, when I would actually act upon it. That makes a big difference. It means that he is someone who’s not mature enough, despite his 28 years. Nothing will ever happen between us, I know that. It is a game for him. And I play it because I’m so bored in that office.
The difference is, that if he is gay at all, he’s lost. He will definitely fall in love with me as if he had never lived before, a bit like Leonardo, even though Leonardo is much more complex and had some sort of background. And it would not be certain that I will fall in love with him. Though he is so charming and cute, it would be very difficult to resist.
But one thing that being older and mature bring, is that I can stop myself from loving someone. I can understand that it will lead to disaster before it even begins. The head is controlling the body, not the other way around. It may be sad, but this is where I am at in my life.
I have a life, I have a destiny. It spawns many lifetimes, many relationships, many countries. I am going somewhere and nothing will get in the way of that destiny. I might not know where I am going, but I don’t care. I know what I want, I know what’s good for me. I know where I will be in five years time, because it will be exactly where I want to be.
He’s got no clue of who he is and what he represents. He does not even believe he has any kind of potential. I don’t even think he has any dream or goals in life. I asked him if he could write conference programs, for a report I was writing, suggesting that he should, instead of being the slave of that Chinese girl. He interpreted it as if I did not believe he could. He felt the need to prove to me that he was capable, saying that I doubted he was even intelligent. How cool is that, I ask you?
I had to tell him that I sincerely thought he could be responsible for his own conferences, and get rid of being a slave, an assistant. I don’t think it registered in his brain what I was talking about. He has no idea that I am writing reports for the bosses, on how this whole company should be. I can’t tell them either. The bosses have hired these expensive consultants to change it all, and in the end they will all agree that my suggestions are the way to go. Because I have seen the perfect way to achieve what they are trying to achieve, in many companies I worked for before.
They are not asking for my reports, I write them on my spare time. They obviously did not trust my judgment, my experience. They need to pay big money to have it confirmed to them. I don’t mind, I am beyond caring, since my single idea is to get out of this job. And yet, everything I have written in my reports so far, seems to have been observed. Even before I started. I am only realizing now that they have changed a lot before I arrived, based on my reports.
And now they are addicted, they want more from professional sources. Without understanding that it could only come from someone with the specific experience that they are in. They were not crazy when they decided to get me there in the first place. They knew I could help them change, the way they wanted. They are just incapable of admitting great work when it is there, something echoed by my Valley Girl.
Sad that I will have left them by the time they realize what they had. Sad that they will be powerless to prevent me from leaving when I do, as at that point they would want to say how helpful I have been, and how all my reports were on the dot and will lead to happiness and success. It will be too late then. I did not feel appreciated, I was pressured, I was pushed out. I am leaving with a smile on my face, feeling liberated from that nightmare.
I don’t even think that in the next two months they will be able to change my mind, that place is not a nice place to work. If people maintained themselves for so long, it must be out of necessity, good paying jobs they could not so easily abandon from fears of looking like useless people to the people they’re living with. And a lack of guts to get out there and find a better job.
These small minded people make me sick. I would have thought to meet them in Arkansas or Oklahoma, not in Los Angeles.
Well, at least now the cool Spanish guy knows I am interested. It is most probably a tired long running joke in my back at work that I fancy him. I even think that the Director is involved, as at one point some days ago he said that he needed some sunlight, and he went to the Spanish guy and acted weird. As if the Spanish guy was some sort of illumination or positive force. And somehow, I feel this is all down to the fact that I feel it could be that way, and everyone knows.
I certainly like to look at him, he is the only thing that makes this whole job bearable. He usually wears sandals, he has big feet, and a nice face. He seems so pure and innocent, and childish, despite his 28 years. As I said before, there is nothing threatening in his eyes, he is totally genuine. And intelligent and quick. He comes to me to correct his English, can you believe, when his English must be twice better than mine.
I can just imagine what it would be like to be in his arms for one long big night. The Earth will stop turning, that’s for sure. Love would be written all over this special event. But before I get carried away, he is most probably straight, even if I have my doubts.
First he is too comfortable with my flirting, he had girlfriends before, and apparently he had a date last week with one of them. That does not look like someone incapable of accepting his homosexuality, it sounds more like a Metrosexual. Someone who is comfortable with the thought that men could be attracted to them, but ultimately would never go any further than flirting on the edge.
So I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t want either to become the clown of the office, by going for a lunch with him, whilst the only purpose would be to get back to the office to tell everyone whatever I might have implied.
He took two photos of me today, why? What was the purpose of this? Again, I am reading too much into this. It means nothing. But his interest in me seems to have gone higher since I started to wear my black jeans, and black polo shirts, and especially my black shoes. He seemed to think that I can be cool as well. And what he does not know, is that I am light years more cool than he is, so I think anyway.
He is 28 years old, he has nothing to show for it. He is definitely two dimensional. I think I have lived enough on this earth, and in so many countries, and written so much, that I am living in at least 10 dimensions.
Which means that I will have much more to give to him than he will ever have to give back in return. It would most likely be a one way relationship, I will give, he will take. This is how empty I see him. I could be wrong, but I doubt it. A man who’s only friends are the three insignificant girls surrounding me, cannot be that cool. Unless somehow these girls were more specials than I first assessed. Which I doubt very much.
The truth is that he could enjoy this flirtation for months, when I would actually act upon it. That makes a big difference. It means that he is someone who’s not mature enough, despite his 28 years. Nothing will ever happen between us, I know that. It is a game for him. And I play it because I’m so bored in that office.
The difference is, that if he is gay at all, he’s lost. He will definitely fall in love with me as if he had never lived before, a bit like Leonardo, even though Leonardo is much more complex and had some sort of background. And it would not be certain that I will fall in love with him. Though he is so charming and cute, it would be very difficult to resist.
But one thing that being older and mature bring, is that I can stop myself from loving someone. I can understand that it will lead to disaster before it even begins. The head is controlling the body, not the other way around. It may be sad, but this is where I am at in my life.
I have a life, I have a destiny. It spawns many lifetimes, many relationships, many countries. I am going somewhere and nothing will get in the way of that destiny. I might not know where I am going, but I don’t care. I know what I want, I know what’s good for me. I know where I will be in five years time, because it will be exactly where I want to be.
He’s got no clue of who he is and what he represents. He does not even believe he has any kind of potential. I don’t even think he has any dream or goals in life. I asked him if he could write conference programs, for a report I was writing, suggesting that he should, instead of being the slave of that Chinese girl. He interpreted it as if I did not believe he could. He felt the need to prove to me that he was capable, saying that I doubted he was even intelligent. How cool is that, I ask you?
I had to tell him that I sincerely thought he could be responsible for his own conferences, and get rid of being a slave, an assistant. I don’t think it registered in his brain what I was talking about. He has no idea that I am writing reports for the bosses, on how this whole company should be. I can’t tell them either. The bosses have hired these expensive consultants to change it all, and in the end they will all agree that my suggestions are the way to go. Because I have seen the perfect way to achieve what they are trying to achieve, in many companies I worked for before.
They are not asking for my reports, I write them on my spare time. They obviously did not trust my judgment, my experience. They need to pay big money to have it confirmed to them. I don’t mind, I am beyond caring, since my single idea is to get out of this job. And yet, everything I have written in my reports so far, seems to have been observed. Even before I started. I am only realizing now that they have changed a lot before I arrived, based on my reports.
And now they are addicted, they want more from professional sources. Without understanding that it could only come from someone with the specific experience that they are in. They were not crazy when they decided to get me there in the first place. They knew I could help them change, the way they wanted. They are just incapable of admitting great work when it is there, something echoed by my Valley Girl.
Sad that I will have left them by the time they realize what they had. Sad that they will be powerless to prevent me from leaving when I do, as at that point they would want to say how helpful I have been, and how all my reports were on the dot and will lead to happiness and success. It will be too late then. I did not feel appreciated, I was pressured, I was pushed out. I am leaving with a smile on my face, feeling liberated from that nightmare.
I don’t even think that in the next two months they will be able to change my mind, that place is not a nice place to work. If people maintained themselves for so long, it must be out of necessity, good paying jobs they could not so easily abandon from fears of looking like useless people to the people they’re living with. And a lack of guts to get out there and find a better job.
These small minded people make me sick. I would have thought to meet them in Arkansas or Oklahoma, not in Los Angeles.
posted by Mycroft Holmes @ 12:38 PM
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