Headed, in my delightfully tall open-toed black and white vinyl heels, with Debi to a meeting in the ivory tower. As we approach the building we intersect with a gentleman of the - what can only be described in those cliched terms - tall, dark, and handsome persuasion; but so he's not completely a mannequin, let me add, that he struck me as someone headed into speak with the environmental studies group, with his beard, drab khakis jeans, and sweatshirt.
My interested piqued as he headed up the stairs (not where the environmental group is located, at all). And Debi stated, "I'm assuming we'll be taking the elevator."
Oh curse you beautiful shoes! How am I to introduce myself to this person taking the stairs if I can't take the bloody stairs?
We enter the elevator and Debi turned to me immediately so we could both remark wide-eyed about this person we don't know and who he could be and where was he going.
We hit the fourth floor and there he is, talking to HR. And I'm lingering. Obviously. Horribly obviously. With some staring just to check to see if he's as attractive as I imagined at first glance, plus we have a meeting with HR, so I think maybe this seems like a legitimate excuse, even though he's not to know it.
And I linger... and he looks at me. And I freeze. Of course, which makes for more staring, and then slowly backing into the room where my meeting is being held.
And the woman from HR enters shortly and I explode, "WHO WAS THAT?!"
And she says his name. And I realize I know him. Well, of him. He was a student. A bit a go. Apparently he's all grown up now.
"Why is he here? Where is he? What's he doing?"
"Well, he's doing field research, so he isn't really here."
Well, that explains the impression I received, "But what's he doing?"
What further proof is needed of their evil conspiracy against me?