It could be worse. I used to work with a girl who on my first day of work said the dirtiest thing I have ever heard. The conversation went something like this... Jason (a fellow co-worker): "Fox, have you met Denise*?" Me: "No. I haven't had the pleasure." (That's me doing my Bond routine, he he. This chick is SMOKING!!) Denise: "Hey Fox, you know what I hate? What really pi$$es me off?" Me (a little taken aback at this point, I thought his was going really well... but she seems really mad) "No, Denise, what would that be?" Denise: "I really hate it when a guy I just met is ******* me in the *** and then pulls out and **** on my back. You're not that kind of guy, are you Fox?" At this point she smiles and walks away leaving me and my overactive imagination left standing there, mouth agape. *Names changed to protect... well... Me!
That's okay, YoYao. You will always be our little regret. And summer song giver, I will give you two possible plans (1) This refers to an old post of yours. Save up your award-winning flatulence for a couple of days, and then "accidentally" let loose when she drops by your desk/cubicle/garbage-truck/school-lunch-assembly-slot to flirt. I'm serious. Then say "I'm so sorry -- it's my spastic colon again! Just gets worse and worse." (2) Change your wardrobe to something dorky. I suggest wearing polo shirts to work for a straight week.
