Then there's this guy.

At work.

His name is John. John is hot. Seriously. Banging body. Handsome face. I'm not the only one who drools over this boy. He's seriously fine. He's also got a girlfriend whom I CANNOT STAND.

She used to work for me. I wanted to fire her so bad I could taste it. Instead she was transfered to another department. Right at the same time I was. Too funny. She was among those who accused Weird Eric of sexual harrassment. She was the one that gave him her phone number and spent plenty of company time socializing with him. She's a god damned liar. And she helped get him fired.

So John likes to flirt. He's always been that way. I'm SO not his type it's not even funny. But when he turned 18 he made sure to tell me. "I'm legal!" he told me, meaningfully. I laughed at him. He puts his arms around me now and again. I find the quickest exit I can manage. I want to flirt with him really badly. But, I have a hard time imagining that he's not just teasing and I AM a supervisor. I bite my tongue or I make sarcastic comments when he tries to flirt with me.

Today I made the mistake of flirting back. I was walking toward the office. "Hey, I'm going to be in the office. I'll be in there for a few minutes." He walked in at that moment and I grabbed his arm "Let's go!" I laughed to myself as he stood momentarily confused. I realised with a great amount of shock what I'd said and hurried to the office expecting he'd move along. Except he followed me.

"What'd you mean by that?" he asked, sitting down.

Oh. Shit.

I smiled trying to think of a good lie. "I'm bored. Entertain me."

He was quiet.

"I'm bored. C'mon... can you juggle?"

"What?"

"Entertain me! Can you juggle? Walk on your hands?" I was desperate.

"No...."

"You're not very entertaining," I informed him.

"I am. Just not in the way you want me to be," he said. Oh, holy fuck. He muttered something and started to leave. "Did you hear me?" he asked.

"...no, not at all," I responded.

"I could lock the office door," he said.

"...I don't think it locks, anyway," I laughed. "How old are you?"

"18," he tells me, proudly.

"You're not capable of being THAT entertaining at 18," I told him.

"You don't know," he replied.

"Please. At 18 you simply can't be. Sorry."

And that was about it.

I know he's the aggressor in this in a way I definately choose not to be in this situation. Too volitile. But god damn. Could he make it more difficult for me? He's clearly doing it on purpose. Fucker.

I need to get laid.