“That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”
-Juliet
Romeo & Juliet
While attending a recent happy hour function for work, I was asked by a group of friends if I had any “office crushes”.
“You mean, people at work that I’m interested in?” I replied, a little surprised by the question. “Uh, no.”
Don’t get me wrong: I’ve met a TON of people at the office, and I’ve made several new friends in the year since I was hired. But I go to work to–wait for it–WORK. This isn’t a social club, and the 35th floor isn’t a bar. Besides: I don’t date people I work with. That’s just a recipe for disaster.
“You mean, there’s no one?! No one you even think is cute?” one of them pressed.
“Well, I’m not DEAD,” I said, a quick glance around the room to see who might be listening.
“So there IS someone! Who?”
“Well, he only walks past my desk a zillion times a day,” I explained. “It’s hard not to notice.”
I paused. Oh what the hell.
“John Johnson,” I confessed, then quickly added: “But it’s not like THAT! I mean, yeah he’s hot. But I’m not interested. I just…notice.”
Blank stares. Confused stares. Concerned stares. My mind races into overdrive. “What did I say?” I wonder. And then it hits me. My eyes go wide and I clamp my hand over my mouth.
“Oh my god! No, no that’s not who I meant!” I cry out, laughing in embarrassment. “Not John Johnson! Oh my god…I meant Mathew Mathews!”
My friends all breathed a sigh of relief, letting out their own nervous laughter.
“I mean, yes–John Johnson also walks by my desk a million times a day. But that’s totally not who I meant,” I quickly fumble, trying to recover. “I don’t know why his name came out!”
“You totally had me going there for a second,” Sally said with a big laugh. “I was sitting here wondering how to tactfully express my complete disagreement with you on that one!”
See, you have to understand:
Talk about a Freudian Slip!! Now, Sally calls me Essaytch Johnson (deservedly so–it was hilarious). And every time John Johnson walks by my desk, I turn a million shades of pink, recalling my blunder. At this point, he probably thinks I do have a crush on him. Crap. Oh well–whatever I can do to boost a Klingon’s ego.






