Love stinks. Yeah Yeah.

[flynightingale]

There's a very nice man who works in our office. He always stops by the front desk and lets me know that the coffee I make every morning is good, which is always nice to hear. What I have learned here at this job amounts to almost nothing, save the ability to make a damn good pot of coffee. I notice that when I pull up in the morning, he's always the first car in the parking lot, and at night when we close you can still here the sound of keys clicking from under the cracks of his office door. Our relationship up until this point has only consisted of the occasional small talk revealing the most minute details of our lives, but one morning earlier this week changed that.

Allow me to set the stage for you.

Me-hungover from the previous night in which I, under no certain terms, may have ended up sleeping in my closet.

Him-making copies really early in the morning before anyone else has arrived. If possible, he was making the copies "with anger".
Does that make sense, he was "copying angrily"?  Well whatever, I could tell he was upset.

Him: "How are you doing this morning?"

Me: "Good...good...how are you?"

Him: "Oh, good..."

(pause)

Him: "Are we both lying?"

Me: "Definitely"

(laughter)

This sparked a conversation in which I found out that he's been sleeping in his office for the past 2 weeks. A couple of wednesdays ago his wife told him that she hated him. He doesn't want to go home, and prefers to sleep in his office chair.

Ladies and gentleman, it's official. I am never getting married.