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So here I am, just trying to get things done, trying to complete another horribly vacant day at the old workplace, and then I'm told it's up to me to train the new person.
And, through some strange, twisted fate, there she is. The girl with the mousy hair.
Oh yeah, I'll train her.
Who's on top now?
Wow, we haven't even been introduced and I'm already sexually harassing her in my mind.
What in the hell is that about?
This can't be a good turn of events. Working so close, I can smell her sweat... jesus, sweat smell... that's damned intimate.
So I say "hello!" and introduce myself and hope that she doesn't remember me as the creepy guy from the bar, or the creepy guy at the movies, or the deeply, disgustingly creepy freak who had previously stolen her garbage at 5am.
Nope, I can see it in her beautiful, vacant eyes, absolutely no hint of recognition...she doesn't even know I exist. Yes, this is exactly like my last several lovers. I already sense a pattern.
Things don't have to be this way.
Damn my medication, keeping me in this state of vague self-awareness.
I need to climb on top of the Andes and hunt down the yeti, become a famous and beloved explorer, and then the mousy haired girl would come running to me, like in some really romantic erotic daydream...
Instead though, I've got to move those boxes before Steve yells at me.
Yes. That is for the best.
Thank god it's Friday.
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