Someone recently commented on a Facebook posting of one of my pieces saying that there are four women to every one man in this city.
Say it ain’t so! How is a girl to hold onto any shred of optimism with those kinds of odds stacked against her?
With a glass of wine, a bar of Donovan’s and great difficulty –that’s how.
It did get me thinking though: if the probability of landing a man in Hamilton is that slim, should certain off-limits men be allowed back on the market?
….like your boss, for example?
Even if your workplace doesn’t have an explicit no-dating-coworkers rule, by convention, it is generally considered inadvisable to have intentions on someone you work with.
I think the common maxim is don’t shit where you eat. Translation: hearts getting broken is a headache management doesn’t need to deal with.
Curiously, there seems to be an exception for boozy work parties at Wonderhorse where you ‘accidentally’ hook up with Jason, the newbie from Accounts and end up at his semi-student flat on Old Farm Road.
The implication is that as long as it’s only sex (…or more likely an awkward fumble) and there are no feelings involved (ergo, no awkward heartbreak politics afterwards), everyone is more than happy to turn a blind eye.
But when you live in a city where unattached testosterone is a rare commodity, should we all be a little bit more open to real romances at work?
My boss is single, and only ever-so older than me. I’m aware of the fact that he has a stable job, is good with children (one from a previous marriage), and I’ve seen him at his worst (a verbal vomit of profanities after the office printer spurted pink toner all over his face), and I’m still convinced he’s a good guy.
Am I into him? Maybe, maybe not.
There’s a tendency to friendzone colleagues on the first day of work, and any intimacy that builds from there (minus boozy nights), tends to sit firmly in the #brozone camp.
Should I go there anyway?
The more romantic of my friends will argue that if he doesn’t give you butterflies, there is really no point even trying.
And yet on Tinder, butterflies never seem to be a requirement. He could give you a mothball and you’d still swipe right if he had the right A/S/L.
What if he’s friendzoned me already?
Answer: He is a man. Men never friendzone. This is a fact all women learn early in life through pop-culture’s definitive guide to men: When Harry Met Sally.
So…I can just get my boss to magically fall in love with me because I choose to go there?
This is the bit I haven’t quite figured out yet.
In the name of giving up hangups about men, I’m willing to give it a try.
Wish me luck…and watch this space!