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Oh bless. That's always a toughie. I remember when I was a receptionist (and when, you may ask, ever wasn't I?) in Kensington and there were several different groups/people renting offices in the building. Not only was Jonathan Coe (novelist) a resident, which was slightly starstriking, but there was also a chap who ran a small, failing PR firm, whose business partner/bird had just left him and who had a thrillingly deep voice, for whose Starbucks-clutching entrance every morning I waited all of a flutter.
The point being, I probably spoke to this man about eight times in my entire life and was thrilled to the point of orgasm by him asking me if there was any post - so office crushes can be on literally anyone or anything (that saucy pot-plant beside the printer) and the more disproportionate they are, the better. If you find yourself sweating with excitement every time a certain random.stranger@yourworkplace.com whom you've never met emails you with the latest sales figures, that's a proper office crush. Tghey're not meant to be worked out IRL, so be proud! |
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