The Official Office Games

As the conference drew to an end and everyone was excused, I rushed past all the men and squeezed past the double doors, pushed forward by the crowd restless to get on with the rest of the day. My face was flushed in all it's heated glory.

"Victoria, would you-" I didn't even glance back as Cole called after me in an impatient, exasperated tone. I was too ashamed, and though a small part of me couldn't resist to reply, I would not be able to endure staring at his charismatic, comfortingly- familiar face, wondering for the umpteenth time why he was involved with a skank like Claire.

Well, actually I had a very feasible guess, but I always thought Cole was above that kind of thing...But I guess I was wrong. This realization slapped me hard and cold like bitter frost.

I pushed my way into the elevator and at some point I was shoved around and ended up into the middle of the edgy mob. It appeared that everyone from the meeting was in a rush and didn't want to wait around for the next ride. I swear, it was as overpopulated and crowded as a hamster cage at Petsmart.

I stepped back and subconsciously hid myself amongst the mass of people as Cole and Mr Caughey joined the already crammed elevator, both of them were chuckling privately at some stupid joke, like they were high school buddies or something.

I wonder if he knows that his last girlfriend dumped him for Cole, I couldn't help but wonder cynically as the two men chatted animatedly. Somehow, I didn't think so. It was a shame when Mrs Caughey finally realized that her faithful husband of ten years hadn't been so faithful when he'd traveled to other states for various business appointments. I missed her Friday Carrot Muffins and her Monday Brownies. It was also a shame that Mr Caughey was in a lawsuit trying- and failing, as the rumors went- to salvage his fortune and protect his will.

Now that I think about it, 'ole George and Cole have a lot in common.

The elevator doors finally closed together and we started scaling up. I sighed in relief- only to squeal in pain when somebody stepped on my toes unprotected by my sandals. "SONOFABITCH!" I yelped as I hopped on one leg whilst awkwardly grabbing my foot and rubbing it. I got impatient scowls as I hurtled into some of the businessmen from the prior meeting.

Oh my God it hurts. I whimpered as I nursed my toe, idiotically wondering if any skin had somehow peeled away. Or worse; if it was bleeding. It sure as hell felt like it!

For what felt like the billionth time this day, I let out the deep breath I'd been holding, and I gently placed my sore foot down. When I glanced up, fifteen pairs of eyes seemed to be staring in my direction. I gulped and clamped my hands together. "Ahem. Err...somebody stepped on my toe," I mumbled lamely. They all continued to stare at me unnervingly for a second or two, but eventually they turned back to whatever else they had been absorbed with.

As soon as I felt the awkward itchiness in my chest recede, I was sure I felt something brush across my cheeks, and not the cheeks on my face, as I'm sorry to report. I tensed quickly and then inconsiciously turned my head to investigate. There were three men in pinstripe suits, all pointedly staring at my butt. Rude! Gah! This was the most piggish and uncouth company I've had the unfortuneness to meet. I gave them all my meanest, vehement glare and they simutaniously shifted their gaze to the doors. Who knew that a quick trip up the elevator would be such an embarrassing adventure? With all of the testosterone in the jam-packed space, I suddenly felt uncomfortable and selfconscious.

That's when my day officially shattered to piece around my ears.

I secluded myself in the least-occupied corner and watched the numbers scaling up, tapping my nails as I waited for floor eight to light up. Can someone tell me why were all the important meetings on the highest floors?

The elevator was two floors away from the heaven I've come to know, when I could've sworn that I felt a hand skim my leg. I quickly turned this time, glaring angrily at the guy who was crouching behind me. I grabbed his tie and yanked him to his feet.

"Touch me again," I snarled quietly, "And I won't be held responsible for the reflex actions that follow suit. And just as a warning; I'm a brown belt in Karate."

The guy slowly nodded and opened his mouth, when I held a hand up and interrupted him. "Stop; I don't want to hear whatever pathetic excuse you could possibly have." Women power!

I turned back to the door and nearly cried for joy when I saw that number 8 lit up.
Home sweet bloody home.

Hastily, I waded through the mosh pit of people and elbowed my way to the delightlfully large and open lobby. Pressure was lifted from my shoulders like a heavy weight as I escaped the party of bothersome men. I needed someone to talk to. Fast. I pursued Cole, and once I fell in step behind him, I had a strong urge to take off my sandal and batter his thick head with it until he was seeing stars. It's what any Indian lady would do.

"Ms Wylie." I stopped dead in my track as the voice from the dispersing business men reeled me back in. I reluctantly consented and reversed my steps.

Gah, what now?

It was George, gesturing to me. With him, standing slightly hunched, a blush decorating his face, was the ass-grabber from the elevator. I had a bad feeling about this.

Man, oh man, was I dead on.

My face already coloring when I reached them. "Uh-err... Yes, Mr Caughey?"

He put a hand on the guy's shoulder. "Mr Stevens, one of the gentlemen presented at our briefing today, has just informed me that you made a considerable threat against him."

What? Is that what he said? I wanted to shout heatedly. I couldn't find my voice; it had crippled under the influence of my boss.

"Uh- Ms Wylie," Mr Stevens intervened. "You have misunderstood my intentions. You thought I obviously was-was-" he paused for a moment and coughed, embarrassed. "...Trying to do something inappropriate whilst in the elevator."

I tap my foot, unimpressed, and stared him down. What do you mean, 'trying do to something inappropriate'? Pah! You did! And I could tell that he got the message through my demeanor.

"Please," Mr Stevens said quickly. "Let me explain. A pin of mine had fallen loose from the breast pocket on my suit," he said, "and it got caught on the belt around your waist.

"I apologize if you thought that I-" and he cut himself off and smiled sheepishly. He looked as embarrassed as I felt. "Just- let's forget this ever happened."

"You understand," Caughey warned in a severe tone, "That such threats could get you suspended from the office department you currently work in? And you would be excused from the current Zappos project?"

I suddenly couldn't breathe. "Mr Caughey- sir- it was an innocent misunderstandment! My apologies, Mr Stevens," I turned to him, suddenly recognizing him as Hayley's old boss with irony. "I was-err- just... It was in self-defense. I felt threatened."

"I understand," he said politely, and with a wry smile, I wondered if he really did. I mean, has he ever been groped in an elevator before? For some reason, I doubt that.

"By the way," Mr Stevens asked with a small smile as Caughey went off, "Do you really own a brown belt in Karate?"

I felt the millionth blush for that day spread across my face. "Err... Yes, actually. I do." I offered an equally small, awkward smile, mentally slapping my forehead for ever saying that. What was I, threatening? HA. "Good day, Mr Stevens," I said, and swiftly left the scene.

Though today was a particularly crappy one, I ran a hand through my hair and found myself grinning and thinking dryly, Poor man; accused of being involved with nerds everywhere he turns.