“I haven’t trusted polls since I read that 62% of women had affairs during their lunch hour. I’ve never met a woman in my life who would give up lunch for sex.” – Erma Bombeck
“Can I use your stapler? Mine will not do the work properly.” That is how two office affairs started. I call them the ‘stapler affairs’. The General Petraeus incident had me thinking of why office affairs take place in the first place, but then my situation came to mind which means I am not one to throw the first stone.
They all look lovely in the office – the women that is. They are all at their very best. Only on those on days when they wear caps to the office, I know that in the course of the day, they will sneak out to have their hair done.
After sitting down to use the stapler, the stories start. Oh, women can talk. If I am in the mood or if one meets my basic credentials, I just sit back behind my desk, ignore the computer, the paperwork in front of me and concentrate on the spot between her eyes, never her twins (they will notice and walk out) and I just listen.
For the married, it usually starts with the maid. “She – the house help – did not agree with baby this morning, so I asked her to do the breakfast and I washed baby, dressed her up and fed her breakfast”. I guess it never occurs to her that that is what baby wanted in the first place. She will see mom much later tonight, who will be too tired to play mom, and daddy will be around so mom will not be fun anyway. Or so I think is what is going through baby’s mind.
In between, she had to look for the husband’s grey pair of socks and the strap for the husband’s laptop case. My job is to remain absolutely silent and nod or smile at the appropriate moment. About thirty-two minutes later, the office assistant pops in to say the boss is looking for her. She jumps from her seat, shuffles the papers she had come to staple together and heads for the door, pulling down her blouse down over her lovely ass (that is the only time I look at her figure) and throws a ‘thank you’ over her shoulder for letting her use my stapler.
For the unmarried but in a relationship, the best times are when there is a popular soccer tournament. “Can I use your stapler? “Mine………. “. She will talk on and on about having her beau over with two of his friends joining just before the match, and how much beer they consume, the loud cheers or groans depending on how the match goes. She will talk of this being the only time that he gets to really eat her food, and then there is the massive lot of dishes to do after the match… until she notices her cell phone, which had been on vibration (how come). She shuffles the papers while shooting to her feet, heads for the door straightening her skirt over her lovely bottom and shoots a thank you over her shoulder.
If you are a patient listener, this can go on until such a time that it becomes some sort of dependence on her part. It is either what is happening at her home, the in-laws, the office politics although I try to discourage this, or just about anything. The opportunity to really talk to someone with no interruptions seems to give some huge of satisfaction on their part.
What is in it for me, you may ask. Aaahh, the overnight meetings arranged by head office to network with the regional heads. I have never understood why these meetings have to take place in big hotels away from head office. The further away, apparently, the better. After the usual morning session, comes tea and pleasant conversations in between, mid morning session to heavy lunch break with much more personal conversation comes next, the afternoon session to tea break and finally the evening session to late dinner with politely naughty conversation all round while most zero in on their respective targets.
After dinner, you know you have been chosen when you are asked to help carry her heavy case to her room, or she calls you to her room to help her open her case for her. She had not noticed the zip was jammed when she packed. If the zip is not jammed, then you know it is an invitation. Or she calls you to help her set up her PowerPoint presentation because the person who should have done the presentation did not turn up today.
Whichever means she gets you there, sooner or later, I will be massaging tired shoulders, next caressing smooth skin all over and desperate sex later. In the morning it is usually: “damn, the soap pieces are so small they will not be enough for both of us.” That is the cue to get up, throw a guilty edged “see you later at the hall” and dashing off to my room to shower and dress.
Should it be more than a one-day seminar, I might get summoned by the single one in a relationship or the married one – depending on who it was last night. Last night’s project usually likes to spend the second night in long conversions with the daughter and or son and husband or if single, in long conversations with the beau. The trick is to know when you are not needed. Until the next time.
That is my version of office affairs. At least what I have encountered in my working life, for the past twenty or so years. Office relationships have led to marriages, breakups or even divorce and I have seen it all.
The worst part is the guilt. It hits you with a force and pain that is too powerful to put into words. The married lady here-in was at some point thrown out by her husband who is now married to a house wife. My pain is that, I am one of the reasons or may be the main cause of the breakup. It hurts. It really hurts. I can only guess what is happening to the former couple, the child(ren) and the families and friends.
Look at the General’s case. PROTUS has lost a very capable Director of the Central Intelligence Agency; I do not even want to go into the respective spouses’ present state of mind. The children, going through school knowing what mommy did with that General. An investigative officer having his credentials questioned because why investigate in the first place? The general public is even at some point going to question the Feds’ invasion of their privacy. All this because of an office affair. It really is not worth the few minutes of fun.
I have done many bad things in my life and deep down I am very sorry for what I have done and also learnt a bitter lesson: no office romance or relationships and certainly, keep away from people in relationships or married ones. They still come for the stapler but I have learnt to ignore them and concentrate on paperwork on the desk, non-existent texts, or my screen top – even if it is a computer game. It is painful but then hey, it is better for both of us in the end.
By Mahe Goat – Guest Writer