My Spanish-speaking colleague just let me in on a little office humor: Me. Evidently, my official behind-my-back nickname is "Puta."
"Wait, does puta mean bitch or whore? It's been a while." I asked.
"Well, you're not a bitch, so..." [You heard it here first, folks. I'm all nice and stuff in real life]
"Yeah, but I'm not a whore either though. Relationship and all that."
"But you act like one."
"How so?" I asked as I remembered the girls are hanging out today. But, not without due reason - It's our holiday party tonight and we're supposed to dress up nice. My version of dressing up is bringing the girls out for a night on the town. Either way, turns out that the girls aren't the the reason.
"You know that picture I saw?"
"Oh, yeah. That."
That = Dave and I took some naughty pictures a while back. When he sent me the little online photo album thing, I didn't realized he had mixed the naughty and nice pictures together. So, as I was innocently looking at pictures of us in the sunset, I clicked onto one that he had taken one night while he was standing above me, so to speak. The girl who sits behind me shrieked immediately. I mean, don't get me wrong, I logged out with the quickness, but evidently she'd been enjoying the pics along with me. She's since spread the word and there you have it...
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And now this picture, although not posted, has been etched into your readers minds...side note, Dad reads this. lol.
CDigs.
You know, at the Olive Garden, they called all the girls "puta," and we were wearing men's shirts and black pants and ties and aprons.
The sunset though, really?
Puta
Just quit.
I went to plannedparenthood.org one day at work and stepped away from my computer. I came back and realized everyone walked by and saw what was on my desk top. Oy gevalt I was embarrased.
Trust me, C - Dad is way too busy (read: uninterested) to read my crap.
Marie - I know, I know. The sunset was a poor attempt to add scenery to the situation. Kind of like how otherwise good authors feel the need to describe the new season in the opening paragraph of a new chapter. It's, like, yeah dude, it's November, the leaves are changing colors, got it. Not interesting, no matter how you spin it. Moving right along with the plot though? Thanks. (By the way, that's so copywritten now - I'm going to use this description whenever I write a book. Don't touch).
Carlito - You are a talented little parrot.
Maulleigh - Fortunately, the only one who saw it was the girl who is waiting for her husband to croak so she can remarry. Everyone else just knows the associated nickname.
As for Planned Parenthood, I've finally graduated to an insurance-paid gyno. However, my last trip to PP was the one in SoHo. Beware!
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