Mr. Obnoxious

Have you ever been attracted to someone that you can’t stand?

There is this guy that I work with. He’s got a big, loud mouth with a grating voice and tends to be a bit of a spazz. You know – he’s pretty much obnoxious whenever he opens his yap. And from the few conversations that I’ve had with him (very few – I think we’ve had more arguments than friendly conversations) he seems to have a pretty high opinion of himself. He disdains dating women who make less money than him – I mean, honestly, shallow much? Sure, I’m not inclined to have a committed relationship with someone who is happy to work at 7-11 for the rest of his life….but not because of money. Because of motivation, aspirations, and above all DRIVE.

But for some reason, I totally want to jump him. It’s like I’m masochistic or something. I want to grab him, throw him on the floor, duct tape his offensive mouth and rape him. Whenever I see him – or even hear him, for shit’s sake – I have visions of bodily attacking him. I want him to be my Booty Call. Now. This very second, as I write this.

Did I mention, I have a strict personal policy about not mixing business with pleasure? I have avoided the relationship-at-work trap for ten years and try my best to keep it that way, because I’ve been a part of the mess it can cause in the end. I’m also selfish enough Not to want to be friends with someone I loved after things go bad – over to me is Over. It’s my prerogative. I do not want to be teased with the presence of a former love.

One might assume that the sexual attraction is the result of a smokin’ hot body. One would be wrong. He’s not built; he’s actually on the scrawny side and, though I haven’t seen him shirtless (there goes the imagination again *sigh*) I doubt that there’s much muscle on him at all.

And yet I still want to ride him like a cowboy on a bucking bronco. Badly. What makes him extremely intolerable also makes me want to have dirty, sweaty sex with him. Apparently, I am a twisted person.

In other news…

I am horrified to report that I have gone up a bra size. I have never gained weight in my chest, and I’ve always been happy for that fact. But not anymore – not only am I no longer thin, I’m also a 36-D. Fuck. Three C-cup bra’s in my dresser drawer are now officially too small for me – the question is, do I stash them with my size 4 slacks that I know I’ll fit into again Some Day or do I give them away to someone with breasts in need?

The upside of the inflating breasts realization is the new bra’s. I bought a girly bra for the very first time in my life in a desperate attempt to make my own boobs look more attractive. To me. Because you know nobody else is going to see it.

Well, unless I throw caution to the wind and jump Mr. Obnoxious in the supply room….

…….right after I win the lottery, that is.