That stated (and believe me, I wouldn't lie about my own fuckin' appearance), there should be no reason for anyone of the opposite sex (or same sex, if they steer that way) to be attracted to me. I mean, it's not like I've got a great personality to make up for my physical flaws. Quite the contrary. The Dud says I scare people off. In fact, everyone tells me I scar people off. That's it! That's the description I was searching for! I'm a scary motherfucker. And not the mysterious, sexy kinda scary prepubescent girls swoon over. More like a look-me-over-longer-than-five-seconds-and-I'll-rip-off-your-fuckin'-face kinda scary. Plus I'm overweight, did I mention that? Fat covers quite a few impresive muscles, if I do say so myself: I'm a lot stronger than I look. But hey, flab's flab. Who the fuck am I kidding, so why even try. I'm not a sweetheart. I hate fuckin' people. Okay, okay, I feel I made my point.

We're getting audited at work and I have the slight suspicion that a one of the auditor chics is diggin' on me. And I say slight because I don't wanna seem pretentious in thinkin' she even comes close to wanting me. She's a nice, older lady. Much older than me, but still young. Maybe in her 40's. And no, I don't want her. She ain't my type. Anyhow, I met her yesterday, when she came up to me and introduced herself with a smile. We exchanged basic info, mainly our names and the usual crap about how much work sucks and so does the weather. Later on that night, she came over and offered me some pizza. I took a slice. Alex was with me, so she took a slice. And I thought nothing of it, 'cause hell, Alex was with me, right? We both got offered pizza n' shit. Today she offers me an apple. Kewl, this chic's always got food. I refuse 'cause I had a banana in my lunch sack already and I'm not too fond of apples anyway, but she insisted it on me. In fact, she came right up to me and placed it matter-of-factly on my black UPS gym-bag (and no, I don't go to the gym, I just use it to carry all my work crap around) and told me to have it. She wasn't asking anymore. So I gave her this nervous grin and accepted. What was I supposed to say? And when I went to the back, of course Nacho started hazing me about it. "Ooo, she wants you, Gris! You should take her out after work... and can I watch?"

Of course I ignore him. Not literally, I mean, I ignore his doubts. According to Juan, this lady's all buddy with me because she thinks I'm hot. That that's the reason why she works in the office I'm in at night. But Juan's always got fuckin' on his mind; everyone either wants him, or he sees them want someone he knows. Right. But then evening comes around, and I go back into my shithole office to finish off my work. And lo and behold! There's another apple in my work area next to my computer mouse. Honestly, I don't even notice it right away. It's until after I log in and start processing all my paperwork that I notice the thing. And I'm thinking: That can't be for me, right? I mean, Terri's stuff is still here (Terri's the auditor lady), but anyone coulda left that apple. Then I see the paper, sticking out from beneath the keyboard, tucked away right beside the juicy red apple: a phone number.

Okay, seriously. What. The. Fuck. It's a 210 area code, too, which means northern Texas, which is where all these auditor dudes always crawl out from. O_o

Yeah... it's around this time that I start spazzing out. Not too much, but enough. No name anywhere on the paper, just the number. Is it a prank? Are all the auditors in their hotel rooms somewhere, huddled around someone's bed, snickering about all this? Gawd, I hope so. 'Cause I mean, if it comes to taking one for the team, Nacho wouldn't last night with LaDonna because he "doesn't like black women" (racist bastard), and I absolutely refuse to with Terri. I mean, she's hot n' all, for an older lady, but as I said, she's just not my type. Well, she could be, granted. I guess, if I turned out the lights... I could... nevermind. No. Just - no.

I really hope that apple and that number were for someone else. Maybe Ray in the PreLoad? Yeah, that makes sense, y'know. He uses the same computer I do, except in the morning, o'course, 'cause I'm not there then.