Ok I confess, I am an ogler, a sexist, a lover of the young and handsome. There, I said it, so sue me for being as bad as the wolf whistlers hanging of scaffolding but this week has been cause for giggles and admiration of the fairer sex (Men that is)!
Enhanced by a little imbibing via a farewell lunch for one of our admin girls today, talk began of the sweet things we have come in contact with over this past week. There have been three of note. Mattie of course who is lovely, clever, funny but perhaps not the drop dead gorgeous one. Shallowly notable are: TheModel, PP and AlphaMan. (All of whom I might add are funny, intelligent and playful)
So, the men I work with are, well, sort of ordinary (as am I by the way). They are somewhat serious and a little glum. Their idea of a jovial conversation is comparing a Margaret River Red with its Victorian cousin or describing that amazing pitch on the 17th before the crow ate their ball. And I know for a fact that there’s a little smut going secretly across the ether but nobody talks about it. Their jokes are old and as well worn as a beggar's boot, they don’t vent, they don’t get down and personal, they certainly don’t get a fit of the tear-pouring, knicker-wetting, oh my God I-have-to-leave-the-room-giggles!
The Quadrangle of girls however, are open, enthusiastic, bitchy, recriminating, giggly, gossipy, totally sexually unrepressed and much fun to be with. Within this battlement of workstations, I’m the oldest at 51 the youngest is 22. We’re in various states of wedlock, singleness and defacto living. At about 3:30 in the afternoon, unplanned but always regular, we tend to swivel in our ergonomic typists chairs and have a coffee and a chat. The chats are usually about raising children, moon cycles, frustrations with partners, bitching about someone or other and sex!
Since Tuesday, the topic has revolved around young men and a week where five of us have shamelessly enjoyed sweet boys and fabulous eye candy. Hey, as my mother would say, "A cat can look at a king!" I’m well known for flirting outrageously - it works. I get results. So it’s usually up to me to be cheeky enough to make the introductions.
First event, five of us had software training. Two went on Monday, the remaining three on Tuesday and beyond the He Who Can't Teach, we met a few of the support team that do an amazing job in helping us out when we struggle with technology or the software goes bad. Of course I HAD to meet my boys, two of whom are nom de plumed as Husband No 1 and Husband No 2 by our receptionist since they call with such frequency.
One great surprise was TheModel. He was so sweet and helpful on the phone that I had previously Googled him to see if I could find a face to match the voice. All I turned up was a Dallys model headsheet an a Cleo Bachelor page for 2008. So as a joke, I sent him an email:
“Guess what, I think I found you on the internet . . so this is your new job?”
to which he replied
“Only on the weekend hehehe!”
Naturally, I thought it was a big joke.
So as I stood in amid the COIN workstations, waiting for my favourite boys to make an appearance I was dumbfounded to find, not only was he drop dead gorgeous in a modellish kind of way (I am not so shallow as to judge a book by its cover and Mattie Rattie is still my fave) but he was indeed, the model on the headsheet! Char and Jaime said nothing. Gobsmacked doesn’t cut it, while I presented them with wine, chocolate and thanks. The girls were well . . .speechless and for them that's a milestone! Hilarious moment that we’ve had much fun recounting since.
Another is PP an accountant who works for a firm with whom we deal. Bit skinny for my liking but Char things he’s the hottest thing since Green Thai Curry and would do anything to have him audit her books! He’s an athlete, with Olympic intentions but oh so pretty if not a little pointy. Again, we look like something out of a Dolly Parton movie when he walks through the quad, each swivelling slowly and following his steps lesiviously until he disappears into the board room. Then 'mock' fanning ourselves in feigned swoons.
Then there’s Alpha Man. He does our phones, patch panels, telephone lines and electrical work. He’s more your rough and ready type, pulling conduit through the roof and a real Mr Fixit, with a neat leather belt full of tools that we pretend are sex toys. He looks like something out of Manpower with his lovely little tool belt and piercing blue eyes and wide white smile. All he has to do is walk across the room and five of us coo and flutter and virtually wet our knickers. The console for our phones is in the kitchenette at work and watching five women spring to the coffee machine just to watch Alpha Man’s buns as he bends over the phone lines is . . .well . . .frankly pathetic but abjectly funny. Fortunately, he has a sensational sense of humour and ‘plays to the crowd’ if you know what I mean.
So to all you lovely helpdeskers, tradies, models, and young and lovely things . . enjoy your youth while you have it. We're enjoying 'playing' with you whenever you're around. All too soon you’ll have beer bellies and hair growing out of your ears . . .and apologies for the shameless adoration that you received from the sexist, hypocrites at Parkside. If you were women and we were men we'd be berated - gotta love a double standard - We love your buns! (And I’m not talkin’ hot cross!)
Can you blame me?