My Special One

One day, my special one will come. I’ve been told that it’s the way that all love goes: it’s perfect, pure, protected with a ring, and it’s going to be great.

It hasn’t happened yet though, so for the time being I’m just sitting here in my office, wondering if any of my workmates…are the one. For a while now I’ve suspected that it might be Vince, which started when he kept glancing over my way with longing in his eyes. Turns out he just wanted me to move my desk thirty centimeters to the left so he could envision a giant stone dragon here. 

Maybe it’ll be one of these so-called office fitout specialists. Sydney is big on office stuff, I’ll have you know, and anyone who does fitouts to an office has to have a number of skills I’m looking for in a partner: DIY know-how, creativity and a familiarity with office life (it’s all I’ve ever known). Vince is nice and all, and he seems like he could design the interior of an office if it came to that, but I can’t see him wielding power tools. If he’s going to be my special one, and our love is going to grow and grow like a flower, then I’d prefer it if he could attach a wall bracket at the very least.

Gosh, you’d think that everyone had a special one by now, and here I am still waiting. “Be patient, and just maybe your special one will come!”. That’s what I was told. The office is the only place where I actually talk to people, hence why I’m pretty sure this is where it’s going to happen. 

I’m going to strike up a conversation with Vince regarding office space design. Like, “Hey Vince, dragons are nice, what do you think about the trends in office space design Sydney businesses are going for these days? Do you think you could do better, Vince? Ever used a spirit level, Vince? Do you own a small, practical set of tools, Vince?”

That should at least let him know that I’m interested, and it’ll give me useful intel. Actually, I don’t know why I’ve never been this aggressive before, because it works.