It’s the Tuesday after a long weekend. On my way back to my desk from the kitchen, I’m carrying two mandarin oranges and a cup of tea. I casually stroll past my crush’s office, planning a sexy smile and wave if he looks up from my desk.
But no, Crush1 (yes, he is one of many) has his back turned. Half asleep and unprepared, an orange slides from my hand. I watch in horror as it rolls and rolls and rolls across the hall. Please bypass his office, I beg the errant orange. Please don’t roll into his office!
The orange hates me. It rolls into his office.
From the hallway, I watch as my fruit rolls to a complete stop under his desk. Crush1 is completely oblivious.
I’m frozen. I have two choices.
a) Run away back to my desk and hide in shame. Pretend it never happened. After it starts to rot and smell funny, he’ll look down and find a random orange and have no idea where it came from.
b) Rescue my orange!
I’m not known for making the smartest decisions. I decide to go after the orange. Besides, I wouldn’t want him to get sick from the pungent stink of a rotten random fruit. I’m also worried for his sanity. What’ll he think, random people are hiding oranges under his desk?
I creep into his office. So far, so good. His back is still turned to me. Maybe he won’t notice if I bent down, snatch the orange, flee to my desk, and-
“What are you doing!?”
Dammit. Crush1 has spun around and sees me creeping into his office.
“My orange.” I bend over, snatch it, and wave it in the air. “It rolled.”
If you need me, I’ll be under my desk. Laughing and crying.
These things only happen to me, I swear.