Dangling a bottom on a stick!

Dangling a bottom on a stick.

It is days like this that I love coming to work. I do not mind sitting at the desk because I am provided with a rare insight into the male mind and how it perceives the world. While I construct the most enormously complex spreadsheet full of formulae, the simplistic nature of the male mind and its motivations are revealed.
I glanced over at the office cheeky, “is everything okay? You haven’t said anything rude today.”
“Oh, sorry... Just busy,” he replied.
Admittedly he did look completely harassed and immersed in numerous complex calculations and charts.
“I want the fun one back,” I replied.
“Okay I will just pop to the loo and then tell you about the perfect gym experience that I had last night,” he said. With that he stood up from the desk and stretched.
When he returned he had one of those cheeky glints in his eye.
“So... I was at the gym last night and running on the treadmill and some kind of planetary alignment must have taken place because the perfect motivation took place. You know what it was?”
I studied him, “naked can-can dancers?”
“Nope three Latino bottoms on the cross trainers in front of me,” he replied smugly.
I frowned, I had an image of dis-embodied bottoms residing on the foot placement pads of the cross-trainer. “I take it they had women attached to them...”
“Yes the most perfect women you could imagine. I don’t know why they even have to go to the gym,” he said entering the fantasy dazed state.
“Well surely that is why they are perfect. They go to the gym daily and maintain their bodies - so therefore are ideal. If they didn’t go and ate pies they would probably look very different,” I replied
“Chicken and egg,” he said.
“So regarding these women’s bottoms... I sense that there is some kind of bottom hierarchy / measure to gauge the perfection of a bottom.”
“There are three types,” he replied.
Surely there had to be more than three types of bottom. Still I did not butt into the bottom flow.
“There is the Latino bottom, which is the ultimate in bottom. It is full, voluptuous and firm. There is plenty of meat on it. There is the Afro-Caribbean bottom. A similar kind of bottom, full, solid and beautiful and then there is the ‘other,’” he said with a smile.
There was a silence while I waited for his bottom measure elaboration / justification.
“The other comprises of all manner of bottom. You have the small Asian, the American cheerleader and many others. Three categories are more than enough for men to determine where something sits in terms of bottom,” he said with a definite nod.

I had honestly never considered a bottom hierarchy before. The office cheeky had changed my perception of the common bottom. “Okay what about men then?”
“There are two types: hairy and non hairy.”
How fair was that? There had to be more bottom categories for men.
“So tell me more about your motivation then,” I said allowing the male bottom hierarchy to churn in the back of my mind.
“Well being mesmerised by the bouncing bottoms, I realised I could divide my run into targets. When I achieved the first couple of kilometres I got the first one. The thought of her and her bottom kept me running. Then when I hit the second goal I was rewarded with the second beautiful bottom.”
I studied him; it was the office cheeky.... “You were rewarded with both weren’t you?”
He smiled a cheeky grin, “yep! Then when I got to the third...”
“Okay... I kind of get it...” I said before a full visual elaboration took place.
“The fantasy was fantastic... It worked really well apart from when I was running for the third posterial reward... Unfortunately the three of them finished training. I was so disappointed,” he said sadly.
“And let me guess an overly sweaty man arrived in a thong.”
“No... But it was a sad case. I ran faster to try and catch them,” he replied.
“You ran faster on a stationary treadmill to try and chase the Latino ladies?” I asked.
“Metaphorically yes. In my mind I ran through the treadmill and caught them all! It was amazing!”
“I think it would have been better if Mr sweaty and his white t-shirt had appeared. Or three flabby bottoms wobbled in front of you,” I said imagining it.
“Who is Mr Sweaty?”
“You have never heard of Mr Sweaty?”
He shook his head with a frown.
“He basically floods the area with sweat whenever he exercises. He is amazing. We once did an abs class and he sweated so hard that he created a sweat puddle. When he walked off he turned to us and said you know you have had a good work out when you have sweated. He often wears a white t-shirt which sticks to his hairy back. The hair sometimes makes patterns according to how he has been laying.”
“That is gross!” replied Office cheeky.
“He seems quite proud of it,” I replied.
Mr cheeky seemed absorbed by something.
“Okay what’s going on? Your eyes are wiggling... “I said.
“I am thinking... So how come some women wear lots of make- up to the gym and others don’t?” he asked seriously. Was there some kind of pattern?
“I have no real clue. Although my friend was saying about two women she saw at the gym. They were dressed in the smallest clothing, had done their hair and wore full evening make-up. They had rather pert parts and displayed braless- lycra-clad breastage. After they had posed around the gym she heard the pair of them in the stretching room saying ‘God men just stare all the time. They are such pervs. It really puts you off going to the gym!’”
The office cheeky looked dumbfounded, “but they are dressed like that – what do they expect? Men are visual! It is their instinct to look!”
He was right.
“As I said before men spend the majority of their time imagining women naked,” he said drifting into the glazed eye look.
“Yes I had a question about that... What even fat ones?” I said.
He shook his head and appeared to have a smell under his nose. “No they are invisible. They become an extension to a wall or a pillar. We just don’t see them. In fact we selectively filter to enable maximum naked fantasy of hottyness,” he said.
I shook my head, “that is not nice.”
“It is reality and truth... If a person wants to be imagined naked – make it nice for the fantasiser – I say!” he replied.
For a moment the pair of us sat in contemplation. I wondered how women perceived men at the gym. They grunted, a few posed but the majority appeared to exercise. In the meantime it was like a mental nudist camp for the men. How could the gym dynamic be sooo different for men and women?
The office hotty trotted past so I waved her over. “Do you go to the gym?”
“No,” she said.
“If you went to the gym would you wear make-up?”
“Probably,” she replied honestly.
“Do you know any women who wear make-up to the gym?” asked the office cheeky.
“Oh yes... One girl I know wears make-up and revealing clothing but that was because she fancied the instructor,” she replied
“Did it work?”
“Yes an escapee nipple resulted in her having a date and a cheeky kiss,” she said matter of factly.
Office cheeky and I gave each other a look. So by flashing your nipples at the gym instructor a person could get a date. I must have been bought up in a different era. It seemed the learnings I had had through my life had missed out that key fact. It was the same as the not running when taking part in a game of kiss chase. Hmmm maybe the gym was another equivalent to kiss chase in the exercise dynamic.
“The gym must attract two types – those who pose and those who actually want to exercise. Gym dating...” she said thinking about the make-up conundrum.
“Actually I was always bemused by a girl who used to come to the gym wearing Lycra with a leopard skin thong over the top. She used to saunter around the gym, stretch and bend over in front of the grunting men lifting weights. Suddenly it makes sense,” I said.
“Did they grunt louder went she bent over?” asked the office hotty.
“Yes much louder. Actually one time, at the same gym, one of the lycra-clad bending-over girls distracted a man on a treadmill who shot off the back and landed on my lap on the bike. It was quite funny really,” I said remembering how embarrassed the poor chap was.
“Really?”
The pair shook their heads.
“So how do you measure a man’s bottom? I mean in terms of pertness in the bottom hierarchy?” I asked the office hotty.
“Well there is peachy and not...”
“There must be more... Men have Latino, Afro-Caribbean and other for women,” I said.
“Other?” said with a bemused look.
“All the other categories,” I said.
“Let me just say there are lots of lovely bottoms in the ‘other’ category,” said the office cheeky.
“I think there are buns of steel, flat bottom and peachy,” I said thoughtfully considering the male bottom hierarchy.
The office hotty agreed. “I am not into the flat bottom. Just the peachy,” she said.
“There must be women who are specifically attracted to the flat bottom kind,” I said.
We all looked at each other. Was a woman attracted to a certain kind of bottom? What would determine that? It seemed the office hotty had developed a selective bottom filtration system. I had a tendency towards buns of steel and the walnut cracking kind. It seemed to tally in with the fact that I was fitness obsessed. She was curvaceous and had an attraction to a peachy bottom. I had never considered bottom hierarchy in the survival psyche. Nor had I realised that dangling a bottom on a stick was a key motivator for the male exerciser. I knew that sex was a motivator but I had one final question.”
“So if we created a man only gym with films of female bottoms playing repetition would the men get fit?”
“No. It isn’t real. You need the bouncing action to be real and close. That way we will fantasise about chasing it. It is all about the display and the potential.... It stops the pain in the limbs. You can ache like hell but you will keep chasing,” he said.
Hmmm. I smiled to myself.
“What happens if you get overly excited?” I asked.
“The treadmill will take care of that and eject you!”
I had never considered this before... I had never considered men running whilst excited... Was that possible? So I wrote on a pad “Can a man with an excited sausage run?” and handed it to the office comedian and the office cheeky.
Answer: ‘yes – when I was at school we had a swimming race. One of the kids had that same problem, jumped in the pool and won the race,’ said the office comedian.
I wonder whether he used it as a propeller....
Although, according to the office cheeky, there was more to it...
“I think I should explain...” he said thoughtfully. “There is a self safety process built in my system, it only needs a starting point where everything is calm before getting on the treadmill.... As a person gets more excited, the hope of getting the incentive grows, so you run faster putting all the extra blood to better use. Until that person thinks some more, gets more excited, runs faster, blood circulates ... And there you go a safety loop which is also the exercise driver ... and whole point behind the theory. Fantasy drives the physical!”
It made perfect sense.
“So what if a person is already het up?”
“Well that could prove sticky... If a person is already excited, then they will never start running until they take care of business manually. Or if they are half man and half amazing they will get the incentive to take care of business for them unfortunately the running becomes redundant.”
I was a little confused.
“So....”
“To answer your question regarding the sausage - no in all possible scenarios ... No running with a live hotdog,” he said.
How come the office comedian believed a person could run with an inflated extra leg and office cheeky was stumped by a hot dog in motion?

“But he says that his friend won a swimming competition whilst in a state of sausage excitement,” I replied.
The office cheeky rolled his eyes, “Water is a completely different medium with ,naturally, its own set of rules and theories ...”
I should have known!
In summary:
It seemed that motivation was more than just excitement. It seemed the simple suggestion that caused the lower regions to twitch could heighten a performance. But what did that mean? Did it mean that a person’s drive was stimulated by the potential physical reward? Was it primeval? Or was there something paramount that I was missing? Why were women so different? A woman would not necessarily run faster on a treadmill if three hot men were in front of her. If they were behind her she might run faster... Or she might slow down if she had been aware of the ideal strategy in kiss chase! Obviously these thoughts have distracted me. If you have answers to this conundrum I would love to know!
So to the morals of the story...
1) Place a large bottom on a stick to motivate a man to get fit.
2) Never be offended if your bottom falls into the other category.
3) Never run with an inflated hotdog unless you have the capability to use it as a propeller to win a swimming race.

Since the discussions Mr Cheeky has since informed that using a male appendage is unwise because it potentially could take the swimmer out of the water - kind of like a helicopter. "It should be more of a fin!" he said.

OBSERVATIONS FROM THE DESK!

Retina Blue (Volume 1)



Observations from the desk!

The world of work, office characters and the benefits of spending your life sitting at a desk.

It is amazing what thoughts come from boredom!

Today I attended the conference call of dread!

Every week I have a conference call which is intensely dull and causes emotional pain. I often spend the majority of conference calls watching the office dynamic. It is kind of like bird watching but the human version. Obviously I listen to the call but I wonder what other people in the office are actually doing or thinking at their little desk. I sit back in the chair and imagine all the thoughts they are having in their own self-created realities. In truth our little desk areas make us like chickens in our little office battery farms. If we were an experiment, the below would be the verdict of the types of human experimentation and social interaction found in the breeding ground known as the office:

Office interactions and characters…

The office tart!

I have noticed there is generally an office tart. One who waves her wares in front of all the men. She either wears the shortest skirt or bends over a lot. Alternatively she will wear that really low-cut leopard skin top which reveals a bit of lacy bra. When there is a works social even she turns up in either leather trousers and high heels or tight lycra. The men circle like sharks. The women in the vicinity glance at each other and roll their eyes. In my previous department there was a woman who purposely wore her breastage defying gravity. She knows exactly what she is doing. She will flick her hair and laugh at men’s jokes even if they are not funny. This is all part of her corporate plan and it is her way of being promoted. Strangely none of the women liked her and they called her the pro… not meaning professional. Quite often she will be bonking anyone with a title!

Thinking about it – I think there are quite often certain roles within the office.

So we have begun with the office tart. She is so busy waving her wares to get attention.

The office stinker!

There is quite often an office stinker. An example of this was a chap who is rather flatulent. He threatened other employees with his bottom. One time he demanded a biscuit from his colleague by threatening him with a fart. It is not fair but there is usually one. If there are two stinkers in the same office you are most definitely unlucky… There seems to be two factions in office stink. There are those who do not wash properly or at all. They have a tendency to violate nostrils on a continual basis and over a period of time. Those poor blighters who sit in close proximity become accustomed to such smell. That is not fair or right!

Then we have the office blow off. It is usually a man who aggressively passes wind at people. He can threaten, bully or hold hostage. This person is cruel, they know the power of the stink and use this as a power. Personally I really have an issue with this kind of person.

Then we have the office angry.

This person finds every excuse to explode. They remind me of human volcanoes… I have noticed them kicking the printer or slamming drawers. When they hit their heads on the desk you know they have really lost it. My advice is to keep away because you may well end up on the receiving end of their emotional vomit. I promise you they will not get better because everything becomes a trigger until they deal with themselves! Will they do that? No… They are too busy blaming everyone and everything.

The office victim / hypochondriac

This is the person who always has a problem, an ache or is simply a victim of everything… you will notice them limp, look sad or huff loudly… I have noticed lots of them. They pull faces when they walk. When they come over to talk to you they make sucking noises through their teeth. They just want to talk about an ailment or an issue. No one can save them so do not try.

The office dieter. This is the person who is permanently on a diet but does not lose any weight. As they discuss how little they eat, they quite often stuff the second bar of chocolate in their face which they wash down with a diet coke.

The office pessimist.

Nothing is going to work. No matter what happens, no matter how many people help – it will just never work… This is like working next to a grey cloud…

The office comedian.

In our office we have the chap who you look at and laugh. It is not because he looks funny, he is just naturally funny. I have found him sleeping at the desk or doing all manner of thing to distract from the days he is late (like wearing a tie). “When I wear a tie no one asks why I am late. They ask me why I am wearing a tie instead!” Being completely unaware of how funny he is, he lives in a special world which enables the rest of the office to laugh and stress relief. The office victim will love him but will never understand him. Whether you like to admit it or not he is half man / half amazing!

The office oblivious.

This character wafts about, they gaze into space and they are never really there. They are like a ghost and their eyes often trave in different directions simultaneously. They may be looking at you but you can never quite tell.

The office nut nuzzler

This is the classic brown nose. They do everything they can to please all the managers. What is interesting about them is how they seem to invade other people’s space… One particular nut nuzzler was quite often pushing their groin forwards when talking to people. Weird. The truth is they feel rubbish about themselves and want people to like them…

The office back stabber.

The back-stabber be-friends every new employee. They gain their trust through providing them with stationary. For the first month they are their best friend but when there is a mistake they grass them up to make themselves look better. It is an unfortunate reality but it happens. The back-stabber can often be the nut nuzzler as well. The truth is they want to be liked but no one trusts them. That is why they befriend all the newbys… They are the innocents to be corporately slaughtered!

The office gagging for it /perv.

The bloke who is practically sweating because he is gagging for it. Everyone knows it. He is generally shifting around. On his phone there will be all manner of dirty picture. When taking part in an office night out he won’t be able to avoid discussion about porn. He will show girls dirty pictures and not understand why they look horrified and step away. He tends to invade space and always caught staring at the office tart’s breasts… He is not of a high enough ilk to liaise with the office strumpet because she is too busy pursuing the married managing director… Or is already doing him. Of course no one knows when actually everyone knows!

There is the second type of the above, I have just been reminded by a colleague. It is the older man who lurks around young women’s desks. He has been married for thirty years, has children older than the new office totty and offers his vast knowledge in exchange for perving…

The new girl / office totty is polite because she does not want to offend, but is very aware that every move she makes is tracked… She is fresh game and the old office perv is fantasising about her.

The office totty.

Again there are two types of office totty: those who are aware and those who are unaware. They purpose in life is to provide the other workers with visual stimulation and fantasy. We might be jealous of their natural beauty but we are glad they exist. If they did not the world would be a very sad place. What’s more, they provide focus for the office pervs. That keeps them away from us!

The office boring bloke.

You do not want to get stuck with this one. He takes ages to tell the story that you really do not want to hear. His technique is to capture you in a corner, or in a place that you cannot escape. If there was a cliff he would tell you the story while you were on the edge. The choice would be listen to the boring story or...

The office obsessive fitty.

They are fit; they eat protein with a spoon. They go on about how they are running this, training for that and have endless goals. They can run faster, further than anyone who has won gold in the Olympics. When you talk to them their posture is erect and their shoulders are back. They glow with health and everyone wishes they were fit like them but the truth is they are busy shoving cake in their face!

The office wide boy.

This is the chap who reckons he knows everything and just lies and lies and embellishes. They will link loads of acronyms and talk really fast. In truth he is talking absolute rubbish but he is convinced of it. he is also convinced you are convinced - even if you are not!

The office temp.

Usually a singer, an actor, a musician, a photographer or something a little bit alternative. They bring a little bit of sparkle and individuality to the office. Generally they don't were office attire, there will be something a little bit individual in how they present themselves. It could be the beads, the hair or the cardigan. Of course they believe they are going to make their millions when they go to London. Or alternatively they are saving to go on a really big world travel. They spend their six month contract dreaming and talking about what they are going to do. Then strangely they become permenant because they have been corporately moulded. Some make the break and go to another office and temp some more. They will make it big next time…

The office actual worker.

This person is usually a middle-aged woman who simply gets on with it. They are a rare breed but they support the rest of the working environment in that they actually do some work. They are not on office communicator. They work methodically and save the bottoms of everyone. The thing is the boss knows this and whenever there is work to be done it lands on their desk. They never get promoted; they are never told how good they are… They simply get on and do it. They are
reliable!

So one of my least favourite things is hierarchy and how we all have to fall into labels. So we apparently have to respect someone because they have a label. What’s more, how some people think they can treat others badly because they have a label… This leads me to the following:

The office control freak.

Often in a managerial position. Everyone is not good enough. They tell people things like they are not allowed to use the word okay in their sentences. In all everything has to be done their way and no other… Everyone slags them off, but no-one dares tell them. In the end the control freak will lose control and break down – so it is just a matter of waiting!

Now that I have watched the room I have just remembered my favourite conference call. I was eating a carrot and had not set the phone to mute. All the way through the international and really important call there was some really annoying crunching. Because of the time delay I did not realise it was actually me… No one mentioned anything, but towards the end of the call it dawned on me that the annoying crunching was actually me. I turned the mute on and laughed so hard it hurt. Obviously I believe in Absolute professionalism!

So work… I have to admit I like going to work. I like the fact there is a routine and we are all basically thrown into a room of people we would never usually meet. Everyone has a story and everyone is there to make money because in truth - if we had loads of money would we still be here tolerating corporate bull crap? I have to admit that the world of work has provided me with great characters and stories to base my literary adventures on… So I am happy that I work and I believe we all need purpose. I do wonder whether all offices contain the same characters. I wrote this up after walking home... If there are more characters that I have not touched on... I would love to know!

So… With all the above in mind, which one are you?

I personally like to believe I am the office hotty but then the word deluded may well applied to my selection!

DATING ESCAPADES!!!

Dating escapades…

Sometimes the choice between sitting and editing or going on a date can be somewhat of a dilemma… With editing you can be absorbed into your self-created world of perfection while laughing at your own jokes. That is rather appealing. Dating on the other hand resides in the realm of reality. It often involves sitting with a chap, being polite and discussing the virtues of scampi.
Last night was a first for me in the world of dating. I turned up early with mini-laptop and proceeded to continue editing The Resonance… In my distracted state I forgot what the chap looked like who I was supposed to meeting… So a man who resembled him arrived at the bar. I waved at him frantically. At first he ignored me but finally he turned and smiled but looked awkward. Once he had been served his beer I watched him stand up and walk out of the bar. How rude! I was like ‘ hang on… I am not hideous… So what was all that about?’
I left him to it and carried on editing. After about half an hour I glanced out of the window. He was sitting alone with his back to me… So obviously I had to further investigate…
“Hi are you Dan?”
“No.”
“Ah… Okay. Right… I am going to go now…” How embarrassing!
Yep you guessed it – I had been waving at the wrong man.
After ten minutes the correct chap turned up, we discussed the virtues of scampi and came to the conclusion we were not attracted to each other. He was lovely but not for me… Shame!
Moral of the story – if going on a date with an unknown make sure you arrive early and wave at the correct bloke. Alternatively pretend you are on a date, wave at a hot bloke, introduce yourself and spend your evening with a hotty instead!