Tuesday, 4 August 2015

In through the Out door

Not my actual hulking blond delivery god,
but a fair approximation thereof
 This morning I was so distracted by the hulking blond delivery god at work, that I walked in through the out door (think more "Raspberry Beret", by Prince, rather than the titular 1979 album by Led Zeppelin).


 As I approached the office, the shrunken lump of coal I call my heart skipped a beat when I saw a white van outside. He's here! The only thing that makes walking into the building pleasurable. Yes, I know I'm objectifying him, but I don't know his name and I'm certainly not going to talk to him, so what're you going to do? 

 Anyway, as I almost levitated up the steps in barely concealed joy, I wondered if we'd bump into each other (not a euphemism, sadly). I did once hold the door open for him as he was man-handling an extraordinarily large box into the building, but that's as close as we've come. Actually, he probably didn't need me to have held the door as he's so burly that he could have walked straight through a concrete wall without breaking a sweat. So, if we had "bumped", I would have been knocked into the middle of next week. But what a week it would have been! 

 Alighting from the top step, I was oblivious to everything but the view through the foyer's mostly glass-facade. He was in there! I caught a glimpse of huge, bulging biceps straining against the sleeves of his black rugby shirt as he unloaded something on to the counter. I couldn't really see his face as his black baseball cap obscured most of it except his square jaw and sullen lips. Totally engrossed, I started to push the revolving glass door to make my way inside but, almost too late, realised I was about to decapitate the guy cleaning the inside of the door. He jumped up and removed his head from the revolving door just in time and gave me a WTF-look! 

 Such was my enchantment, that I had failed to spot the big yellow sign in front of the door as I approached, warning that cleaning was in progress and to use the side doors. How I hadn't tripped over it is nothing short of amazing. Perhaps I really had levitated?

 This near-miss brought me back down to Earth with a jolt, and I blundered about like a newborn giraffe as I attempted to extricate myself from the door. Eventually, I managed to get into the office, but too late for a closer look at the object of my affection - probably for the best, as he'd no doubt seen me make a tit of myself - he was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a pair of miserable security trolls. With heavy sigh, I trudged past the security desk and towards another day of thankless drudgery.

- - -

EDIT 11:55 05.08.2015
I've just changed the comment settings to 'embedded' rather than 'open in new window' (and removed the word verification thingy), as this allows me to reply individually to you - A feature I like in most of your blogs.


  1. Here's a "thank you" for your drudgery!

  2. You really should write porn. The only thi is, the man in your picture couldn't have delivered to you as he was on his knees, mending a light switch for me. Move over, former favourite tradesman, the new sparky's hotter in every way!

  3. "I did once hold the door open for him as he was man-handling an extraordinarily large box into the building" And it's those extraordinarily large boxes that get us. At one point in the day did you tell your Johnson, DOWN BOY? You surely must have been exiled your chair all afternoon.

  4. ah the crumbs life throws us.

  5. I'd prefer it if "he" was a thank you for my drudgery, LX!

    Oh, so my delivery god has been moonlighting as a sparky, eh, Hound? Well, I'm going to need him back for some research before I can write porn!

    Mistress Maddie: Wedged solid, I was!

    And if I'd had my wits about me when I transcribed this little encounter, I'd have substituted "box" with "package".

    Norma: What I want to know is, Who's eating the cake?

  6. Can you get things delivered to you? Does his firm have a FB page? Are there ways of tracking him down??? Just thinking of ways to engineer a close encounter with another large box/package....

    1. What are you saying, Ms Scarlet? That I should stalk him? Because you know I would do such a thing at the drop of a hat! Sadly, he delivers supplies to the little cafe in our building's foyer rather than to my office, so an engineered meeting is out. FB, on the other hand...

    2. Yay! You are my first embedded comment, Ms Scarlet!

  7. Your delivery hunk sounds very much like a tease to me... and don't think he didn't notice you Mr DeVice the day you held the door for him whilst he wrestled his package... flaunting it in front of you like that! He's probably just very shy and hasn't summoned the courage to ask you out to his van for a "private delivery"...

    1. Well, I did see him again this morning, and I'm pretty sure he acknowledged my presence with a slight inclination of his head and a very, very faint smile. Plus the side door of his van was gaping open!

      Or I could have been imagining things and he was squinting in the sun...

  8. Bet I would've liked that jock as well.
    Totally into guys like that! ^_^


Tickle my fancy, why don't you?