Ok, Maggie, your story is downright adorable. I'm happy for you two. It's like "Paradise by the Dashboard Light," except it's "Paradise by the Fluorescent Light." That's a Meatloaf joke, guys.I have a successful office romance story that's riddled with scandal. Actually it wasn't that scandalous, I just like to sound vixen-y every once in a while. When I was a senior at Temple, I scored an internship at a local PR firm. During my interview, I had to fill out this current events test to assure everyone that I read the news, which I did occasionally. Lucky for me, there was a cute and helpful junior account exec who didn't mind helping a cute girl cheat. He slid up next to me as I sat outside the boss' office and gave me some answers. I, being the dazzling intern that I was, gladly accepted the dishonest help.
When I returned to the firm on my first day as an official intern, I was secretly giddy to see him again. We soon became cubicle pals, and before long I was referring to him outside the office as my "work boyfriend." I bored my roommates with stories about how you-know-who walked past my desk five times today to go to the bathroom, even though I'm pretty sure he really didn't have to go to the bathroom each time.
One day, we all headed to A Bar Named Sue (RIP) for a coworker's birthday celebration. After some PBRs and a few too many mystery shots, the intern/employee line was drunkenly crossed. Fast forward through a few awkward work days, an eventual lunchroom conversation on "what happened the other night," and several knowing glances from fellow coworkers, and we officially became a couple.
Like a good, respectible intern, we waited until my program wrapped up before officially going public. It's been three years and we're still together! I guess love can be found deep within the florescent lighting and gray walls of Corporate America.
The closest thing I've ever had to an office romance was when I had a crush on a kid named Shane the summer before 6th grade. We were both counselors-in-training at the same camp. He had a mullet, Reebok high-tops, and huge, '80s eyeglasses that obscured half of his face; I was in love. When he called me on the phone one night just to say hi, I pretty much flipped my shit. It was the first time a boy had ever called me on the phone. When I saw him at camp the next day, he ignored me.
That, my friends, is the sum total of my office romance experience, and technically we weren't even in an office and we weren't technically employed (I'll have to consult our state's child labor laws about that.) Sadtrombone.com.
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