Company Ink

At my workplace, I've gained a reputation of being a "ladies' man," in both serious and humorous senses of the word. How it happened was this:

One day the employees were kind of hanging around at some snack time, or when the company was buying us pizza, or something, and some of us were sitting around the conference room table. A young woman sat down across from me, and I immediately noticed that she had new glasses, and said (truthfully) that they looked good. As I was saying this, I realized that it wasn't just the afternoon sun pouring into the conference room through the open blinds that made her look different, so I asked if she had dyed her hair. Turns out she had.

Having just written a blog about hair color, skin color, and makeup, I sort of automatically launched into a discussion of how it was a really good color, how it contrasted nicely with her complexion and set off her eyes, and how it worked well with her new glasses.

Immediately, the guy next to me accused me of being a "smooth talker," and imputed me with ulterior motives, something that gets repeated from time to time. I pointed out to this guy that I am a happily married man, who, despite his serpent's tongue, is not generally considered an attractive prospect by the women I meet. On another occasion, I pointed out that he, on the other hand, as a young, single guy about whom the ladies spoke well in his absence, should have no trouble making hay, to which he responded, "My father always taught me you don't dip your pen in the company's ink."

Which puts us in the same position: appreciating the pure aesthetic pleasure of the feminine form, which is now not only my vocation: it's my job.