The Work Hottie: Does Frank Wear a Size 7?

As I'm sure every girl can attest, there's at least one guy in the office that makes it easier to come into work everyday. The type that smiles at you in the elevator, asks you what floor you're going to and sends your IQ plummeting 20 points as you try to say something more clever than 'ummmmm uhhhhh eleven please."
Take that and amplify it by the fact that I work in advertising. This means lots of cool girls, a hand full of equally cool gay guys and very few eligible straight bachelors. Suddenly the guy described in paragraph one stands out like True Religions at a 2005 sample sale. It's not that I condone looking for romance in the workplace. Sure office crushes can keep life more interesting, but stats show that a surprising amount of people do meet their matches at work... so it keeps us all hopeful.
One three day weekend a couple falls ago ... I was out with FIVE of my favorite couples. at 7B on a Sunday night. This was odd because for once. While I adored the company of the ten friends around me, and they're the types that make sure to include the single girl, I inevitably found myself wishing one of my single girls was out as well. That and I kept getting bits and pieces of non-single advice such as, "date someone older than you; guys your age aren’t looking for girlfriends."
As their charity talks continued, I started panning the empty bar. No prospects. My friend Gina is also panning the empty bar, but she came across a find... an old-fashioned photo booth at the back of the bar.
We scampered over, inspected the booth and laughed at the 'example photos' on the machine. We also realized that we were a dollar short. As if on cue, in walked office hottie. I don't know if it was the 'seemingly scripted moment,' the Sunday afternoon drinking or the new location but this time I didn't hesitate or trip over my words. In fact, I thought I was pretty slick as I glided over and asked to borrow a dollar.
Office hottie was slicker as he answered, 'Sure, on the one condition that you promise to share the photos and come over and say hi after.'
Five rounds of photos, several additional borrowed dollars, a few rounds of drinks and a couple hours of conversation later, I was kissing office hottie in the photo booth. This continued outside of the photo booth, and outside on the street until office hottie’s friends- who were just in town for the weekend- got a bit annoyed. They hailed a cab and demanded that the pair of us get in or get left behind. Being that it was last call, the former sounded more enticing.
Thus the three of us ended up on the UES 20 minutes later on, hottie's couch, watching ESPN. Despite my protests of being polite, hottie drove his friend almost to the point of nausea as he 'put on the moves.' His friend, Sean, made this point clear when he demanded the couch, a blanket and a pillow.
I took this as my cue to exit. I followed hottie into his room to help with the blanket and pillow - and to say goodbye with out the criticisms of friend-on-couch. Hottie took the blanket, etc. to his friend and asked me to stay put. I could see what he had in mind, but I had already resolved to leave. Clearly this wasn't the scene I'd had in my head on all those awkward elevator rides.
I also realized that he was taking too long to return. Thus, I did what any girl would do. I began to look around the room. This is when I noticed the following:
- He was very clean and organized = good
- He had excellent taste in shoes = very good
- We had similar tastes in music = excellent
That's when I began to notice smaller details such as:
- A photo of hottie and a cute girl = perhaps it's his sister?
- Secret sparkle pear-scented deodorant = strange
- Cute strappy high heels = WOAH!!
I picked up the heels and managed to hide them behind my back quickly as hottie re-entered the room.
"Hey you... question for ya?" I asked coyly.
"Of course... anything?" he replied
"OK... how many people are staying with you this weekend?''
"Just Frank who's MIA and Sean who's on the couch, why?"
I managed to keep my grin as I pulled the heels from behind my back and smartly inquired "Hmmm. Does FRANK wear a size seven?"
It was now his turn for his IQ to drop 20 points as he managed to mutter something intelligent like "uhhhhh ummmmmm."
To which I replied. "Look, I'm not going to hate you, or make a scene here, but are you seeing someone?"
More, "Ummmm uhhhh I don't understand," followed by, "could you repeat the question?" Clearly he had taken some of the same 'stall while you think of answers,' training classes I had.
Suddenly the spell wore off. "It's easy. DO YOU have a girlfriend?'' I asked again not so nicely.
"I don't see what you're getting at."
"OK the right thing to do in this situation would be to see me out and get me a cab. I'm going home."
Well he did respond well to his request. Apologized to Sean-on-couch, walked me down the stairs, flagged a cab, handed me cab fare and didn't even mention work.
Needless to say this experience didn't serve to make elevator conversations any easier.,. though I did give me the upper hand and has done plenty to dispel the aura of the office hottie. It also supported my friend’s advice that older guys are more likely to have girlfriends.
*For the record I've kept all names- and incrementing photographs- to myself. It's just not worth more than a laugh.
** Hottie has moved on to another line of business.

The iBanker PH test

In addition to honing my skills as a creep, snob and all around weirdo detector (seriously if you've got a borderline questionable male in mind I can identify them... I should charge for this service, I'm just that good) my friends have nominated me as the number one litmus test for identifying all banker-types in the New York area.

It's not something I'm proud of, much less is it intentional, but it seems I have an uncanny knack for identifying the single ibanker in a room full of similarly dressed and styled twenty-something professionals. The amusing part of this ability? I'm oft completely unaware of said gentleman's background until mid-conversation. I know, I know you're thinking ‘what are the odds? Aren't there like 200,000 of these types in your age group on the isle of Manhattan?’ Buzz off. I could walk up to someone in a clown suit selling hotdogs on Delancy at noon on a Wednesday and they'd turn out to be of the financial services persuasion... it's a curse.

This particular proto-type are a dime a dozen in this city and I've learned to avoid guys with tell tale signs such as:
- popped collars
- polished lines that probably originated in a lemon lot if not a Will Ferrell youtube spot
- a certain swagger that only an overpaid coffee runner can master
None-the-less, call it All American charm, but I seem to find myself meeting more of these 'gentlemen' than HR Department at Lehman Brothers.

So fast-forward to last Friday. My college friends, who I haven't seen since graduation, are visiting. I offer the choice of MPD swank or West Vill College Dive, and we find ourselves at a dive bar downtown. I soon find myself protesting to the DJ that, in addition to the most popular sublime and Greenday songs of the last decade, any good dive bar should add some blue album Weezer, the Toadies or for God's sake at least some Filter in their repertoire. Heaven forbid they play something 'unheard of’ from the past two years... but that's what the LES hipsters are for (which is a totally different rant).

Apparently my criticism attracts a group of high-energy, goofy-but-fun beer bong players. My friends and I are invited to watch the 'tournament' and our new found friends seem to be pros. They also seem to be relatively harmless but it becomes clear that this is a ploy to win us over and I'm just not interested in more than conversation. That, and I couldn't hit the wide side of a barn door with a ping pong ball much less a solo cup.

Making my retreat to the bar, I volunteer to keep watch over two of my friends’ pitchers and order up an H20 on the rocks while they go outside for cigarettes. This serves to distance myself from the Beirut table and also allows me to reflect that whilst college friends visiting may be a good excuse for ''college behavior," I'm glad I've outgrown a lot of the drinking games of yester year. I'm also becoming increasingly aware that I'm now left wide open to the frat boys at table pong should they lose... I'm hoping they'll win.

It's at this point that a much more "my-type" guy makes an obvious joke about my large supply of beer given that I'm drinking water. He follows this by a more observant and clever comment about my state of affairs with beer-pong extraordinaire. Impressed I continue the conversation, noting:
- slightly cheesy line, but no strikes out as of yet
- no popped collar
- nice sweater
- no mention of a "high-profile career."
It isn't until well into the conversation, and not until after my friends have returned, that I discover my new cute companion is only in town for the week.

Figures. But, as the alternative is a)leaving and disappointing my college friends who are talking to his mates, b) heading back to the table, I stick it out. Conversation never hurt anyone, right?

After several prodding questions I learn the following:
- he is in town for a dinner function....work related? no
- rehearsal dinner/bachelor party? no....
He's in town for a recruiting dinner. That's right; I'm spending my Friday night talking to a very smart, cute JUNIOR from Michigan State.

Brushing the cradle robber comments aside by my tickled friends, I find myself reverting to college party questions. I hesitate, and then ask, 'so what's your major?' No sooner does what I'm saying register before I hear the answer.

"Finance, I'm thinking insurance or banking.... not the most fascinating subject but you can make a ton of money doing it."

I'm not sure what my expression was but he started defending his position really quickly as my friends practically fell to the floor laughing. "This is a new degree of super sleuthing.... awesome."

The night ended well, but I'll never live that one down. Next visit I'm pressing the issue that we hit up somewhere with more expensive drinks, and less 'green' patrons.

Yey team. Score one for the kids.