He was tall. He had a fantastic smile. And when he lifted his beer bottle to his mouth, his t-shirt sleeve rose up and we could see a glimpse of the tatoo that circled his upper arm.
This guy was HOT.
All posts by Tracey Stone
Ring the Alarm. Part One.
“Wow,” I said, as we entered the bar. “I didn’t think this place would be so big.”
“Me neither,” Marlie agreed. “And with so many people.” The atmosphere was more like a club than the intimate lounge setting we’d been expecting. Dance music pumped through the speakers and the dim concrete and dark wood space seemed incongruous with the early evening sun that still blazed outside.
After we got our drinks, we looked over the ‘Ice Breaker’ cards we’d been given when we checked in. These were a list of questions we were supposed to ask the Firemen in order to get them talking. But I just couldn’t imagine myself actually starting a conversation with:
“What is the best type of protection for a Firefighter?
1) Fireproof Suit
2) Oxygen Mask
3) A Condom”
And now, not a poll. But a pole.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” laughed Marlie.
“I know,” I said and rolled my eyes. “It’s totally ridiculous.”
“I hope it will be fun.”
“Of course it will be fun.” I peered into the candlelit bar. “We’re here together. We’ll have fun no matter what.”
Poll Results.
“A lie is a lie is a lie,” insisted Leanne, as she tucked a lock of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. “It’s as simple as that.”
“Okay, I get what you’re saying,” I said. “But this is the thing. As one of the readers commented – if you meet someone out and about, you’re not going to introduce yourself and be all, ‘Hi my name is Tracey and I’m 43.'” I took a sip of Corona and then continued. “No, you’re just going to get to know them and then age comes up later. But online, you’re required to put how old you are and that automatically categorizes you, before someone even gives you a chance. And in my case, dismisses you.”
“But why would you want to even date someone your age who’s cut-off is thirty-six?” she asked.
“Hmm, that’s a good point,” I said and looked around the table. “What do you guys think?”
Age Aint Nothin’ But a Number…? And Another Poll.
“Ew!” I exclaimed, as I burst through the conference room door.
“What?” Archie was trying to enjoy a peaceful Bento Box lunch, away from the usual office chaos.
But I was having none of that.
“My post for tomorrow sucks!” I stared down at him, hands on hips. “It SUCKS!”
Continue reading Age Aint Nothin’ But a Number…? And Another Poll.
Saturday Night Adventure.
“We want adventure.”
“What?” I put the phone on the kitchen counter and clicked it to speaker. “Picturing me strutting around in my jeggings wasn’t enough of an adventure for you?”
She laughed. “No, that was fun. We love hearing about your progress and we’re all cheering you on but really, it’s time to start dating again. Just like you said. That’s what we all want to read about.”
I sighed. “I know.”
Strut.
I think we can all agree there’s nothing more tedious and annoying than an artist discussing their ‘process.’ They’ll spout on about their ‘craft’ and their ‘inspiration’ and how they ‘see the world differently’ than the rest of us and then they’ll tell you about the speck of dew they saw on a young leaf that morning, and how it relates to them entering as the new kid in the middle of first grade. Maybe their voice will waver and they’ll get a tear in their eye.
And you’ll want to kill yourself.
So I try not to do that here.
I mean, that shit is BORING.
The More Things Change, The More They Stay the Same. Or… Part Two.
At first, I was too stunned to speak.
And then I almost said, “I’m touched.”
But that seemed inappropriate.
I tried out in my mind, “I’m flattered.” But that also seemed weird for a work exchange.
So instead, I just said: “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Continue reading The More Things Change, The More They Stay the Same. Or… Part Two.
The More Things Change, The More They Stay the Same. Or… Part One.
I was pretty sure I was about to get fired. Like seriously. Wade and his team didn’t need me in the same capacity anymore and in a surprising plot-twist, RJ had left the company. Although I still was supporting Seth and maintaining my duties on the Wellness Committee, not to mention my important role of President of the Fun Committee, I knew that no company would see this as a full workload. I wondered vaguely if I should start working on my resume.
Continue reading The More Things Change, The More They Stay the Same. Or… Part One.
Not Quite A Cougar 