As I was collating sticks and cattails while singing for my boss, my union rep pulled me aside. He seemed uncomfortable and his gaze kept shifting. Apparently, another one of our coworkers (we shall call them Goulash - epic epic lunches every day!) was making sexual remarks about me - wanting to tap me and the like. My union rep advised me that perhaps I shouldn't dress as well as I do and stop wearing skirts and actually, maybe even change my work hours so I don't bait Goulash anymore. I was so incredibly attractive and captivating, that I was expected to accommodate Goulash rather than expect Goulash to contain himself.
Taking my rep up on his suggestion, I went into work early. I stopped at a Tim's where a male friend of mine worked. Again, my beauty, charisma and sex appeal was far too much for anyone to ignore. My beguiling self permeated the Tim Horton's. One by one, they sauntered up to the counter just to be near me. After ordering, all the men insisted that I take their change. While that sounds like they thought I was a homeless skid rather than a sexy beast, in my dream, it was a BIG deal that I was getting their change.... Megan Fox wouldn't have received anything more - it was the highest echelon of modern day flirtation. I had to leave to avoid my friend facing more hatred, death stares and threats. In fact, I left amidst a slew of jealous ridden slurs and the promise of a fight.
As always, Reality Bites. I woke up with a rolly, bloated ice cream belly from the night before and a sore, fresh, below the surface pimple. It's no wonder RC couldn't get me out of bed this morning!
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