The Finch Formerly Known As Gold

14 February 2006

The lure of the forbidden

The office — not my office, of course, but the one adjacent — contains surprisingly high levels of babeliciousness. (On a whim, I sent that word to Google, and it asked me if I meant "bootiliciousness"; the answer is "Not necessarily.") As one of the mainstays thereof was loading up her car for the trip home, I was bouncing some of my Standard Frivolous Ideas off of her; she was as polite as she could be without actually having to listen to me.

She started up the car, I retreated, and I discovered quickly enough that I'd been seen. "You still like her, don't you?"

My preachy side roused itself to the fore. "Once they're off the market, it's worse. Always."

It occurs to me that this bit of romantic pragmatism probably wasn't precisely the explanation she wanted to hear, but in my experience, it's almost invariably true. There's another one, same shop, 15 years or so younger, who used to be way cute. Now that she's tied the knot, she's freaking gorgeous.

And it further occurs to me that if this also works in reverse, it would help explain the lack of names on my dance card.

Posted at 5:30 PM to Table for One