There’s a guy at work, let’s call him Joel. We’ve flirted for years. I’ve worked here for five years, him six. We don’t see each other often, but every time we do, it’s “nice tie,” or “great shoes,” a raise of the eyebrows, and some goofy smiles and noncommittal conversation. He’s married, although he might be open. How do you ask that? Joel is about my height, former college baseball player, with a California Cool accent that’s just a little put on, a penchant for “fashion forward” clothing - tailored jeans, tailored shirts, thin ties. It shows him off well. The man has a fine ass.
