Her skirt was too short for the office. It would be even considered short in Zouk on a Paul Van Dyke night. She was tall, slim, pretty and had fantastic legs but her relative young age was broadcasting on all inter-galatic channels as her butt cheeks threatened to peek out at every swirl of her short little mini.
I haven't seen such naivete in such a long time. It was her second week at work and she didn't seem to even realise that she had half the office turned on and the the other turned off. I also found it fascinating that she was Chindian. I haven't see one of those since this morning when I was checking for nose hairs.
I didn't notice her as I'm rarely in the office and even then I'm holed up in my office throwing sheep at people on Facebook.
The ladies in the office were whispering about the young thing. They called each other to check her out. Some stared disapprovingly, some others stared unappreciatively and some just checked out the competition.
Then the weirdest sensation hit me as I was listening to the conversations among the older women. This weird feeling that I was drifting between the time barrier. All of a sudden I was in my twilight years, old and wrinkly, man boobs flapping on my skinny chest looking at younger men flirting with even younger, hotter women and me feeling helpless and frustrated. Then I'm younger and the world is my own to mould but I'm unsure of what lies ahead and except for what little I know of myself. Not good when its a bad attitude to authority and a sarcastic mouth...
Then I'm back to reality. There's a ton of work to be done. I going to be late for my 4.30 and still haven't sent out that last email. That report also needs to be done by tomorrow. No 70's show for me tonight.