The Early Bird Does Not Get the Worm

Last week I had to work out the kinks of being the first person at the office. What kinks, you ask? Well, I’ll tell you.

It turns out that college professors are really just aged college students. Most college students hate getting up early, and it turns out that professors hate mornings too. Except they have a fancy job that entitles them to dictating their schedule without much reverence to commonly accepted business hours.

So I am the first to arrive everyday. I can surf the net in my cozy office and eat my breakfast leisurely. I can do a lot of things, but unfortunately not with much ease or peace of mind after last Monday.

Our office doesn’t open until 9 AM, but I have to be here as close to 8 AM as possible so that I can receive the mail from our campus delivery system. This ritual is no different than it used to be at my last office, except that like clockwork the mail carrier arrived at 8:45 and one of two guys was my standard mail guy. We’d talk about the weekend or their kids. They were wonderful morning people. Now, my life has been ruined by a varying rotation of mail carriers, carriers that arrive sporadically between 8 and 9, and one carrier in particular that thinks he’s a stud.

On Monday my boss asked if I could be absolutely certain to catch the mail guy to give him an outgoing package. I agreed and rushed to the office so I could be here promptly at 8. I paced the hall waiting for the familiar ding of the elevator. Finally, at 8:50 Max strolls in with his mail cart. I introduce myself. Then, he asked me out. He knew just my name and that I was new. (And dammit, why didn’t I tell him I’m a lesbian!?)  I was flabbergasted. I declined his offer as politely as possible, but it was early and I hadn’t had my first cup of coffee so I may have been a bit clumsy.

Getting to work early for the mail services guy never looked so unappealing in my life. Never again. Now, I don’t rush. I’m in no hurry to be hit on by Max, the probably-student-summer-worker with a peach fuzz ‘stache and a “cool guy” swagger.  No thank you.  (There may have even been a gold chain.)  It is a fact commonly known that all boys who are a good five to ten years younger than me find me wildly attractive.  I do not know why I own this demographic.

Max was the cosmic reward I got for being on time for once in my life.  True story.

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2 Responses to The Early Bird Does Not Get the Worm

  1. Sarakastic says:

    My demographic seems to be idiots & either guys who are 10 years younger than me or 20 years older than me. Max is gross.

  2. Weltsie says:

    Definitely disturbing! That reminds me of when a locksmith used the info on my business card to contact and ask me out – THEN showed up at my office unannounced. Not romantic – creepy!

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