Chapter: Is That a Puppy in Your Pocket or Are You Just Happy to See Me?

Some form of this post will eventually be included in Living with People I Want to Punch in the Throat. It is unedited and in rough draft form.

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Back in my single days, we didn’t have Bumble or Match or whatever else the single folks are using these days to find a person. Because we didn’t have the opportunity to swipe on people, we had to actually meet people out and about. The horror!

A very popular place to meet someone was at work. We spent 8 hours a day together, why not bone too? Ugh. What were we thinking?

But there weren’t a lot of choices. I had hobbies, but they mostly involved being home alone and watching “Friends” in my underwear. Looking back now, I realize, I probably could have had several men join my pantsless TV night, but I didn’t understand yet that there was an audience for that.

My mom encouraged me to flirt with the young men who worked at the gas station and tried to upsell me on a car wash. (I feel like there could be a good joke about blasting my undercarriage here. Do some car wash research.)

There were articles in Cosmo saying there was an abundance of single men in the produce section but all I ever saw there were 50-year-old divorces looking for ripe melons. [Side note: If you’re a 40-plus lady looking for love, get your melons out and hang around the grocery store.]

Nope. It was either work or the bar and the bar just wasn’t my thing. Yelling at someone for 15 minutes just to see if you liked their personality was a chore and I was lazy. So, it had to be work.

And I wasn’t the only one. I worked in a department full of young, single people where everyone was hooking up for pantsless “Friends” marathons and grocery shopping.

Of course, I had my eye on one…or two…okay, three…guys there, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to shoot my shot. I didn’t want to get rejected on a Friday and have to face him again on Monday. So, I put what I wanted out into the Universe and I waited for him…or him…or him…to come to me.

And it worked!

One day I was working with a small group in a conference room when Danny (the third guy I’d been eyeing) sauntered in. Danny sauntered—not walked—because he was very smooth. That’s why he was number three. I didn’t think I could handle smooth. I’m incredibly awkward and weird when I’m attracted to someone and I thought Danny was way too cool for me.

Just to show you how awkward I was, as soon as Danny said, “Hi, Jen,” I was like, “I gotta pee,” and I left the room. The only positive thing I can say about that interaction was at least I didn’t say, “I have diarrhea.”