Jack of Harts

I know it’s hard to see, but I used to work for the man. The man down the road. Yes. In my misspent youth, I had a regular job, working for a man who paid me real money. And I worked with other people. I know that’s hard to think about, but it is true. Now I am a clean freak, so I value a clean work environment. That means that I always cleaned up after the slobs who worked before me. I could feel the dirt on the counters when they left. Maybe it was just in my mind, but I could feel it, so I cleaned it. Except in a handful of cases, where certain coworkers who cleaned very well were involved. In one such case, I came into work when one of said coworkers was in the middle of cleaning the place up and preparing to leave. Now to set the stage, she was my kind of pretty. Not pretty like me, you understand, for I am a truly special kind of pretty. But the kind of pretty I find attractive. So here she is, cleaning the place up so that I, her not-so-humble coworker can walk into a clean work environment. So I thank her for that. And just to clarify, I did keep myself from saying “You clean up nice.” While grammatically correct, phrasing it like that may have left the wrong impression. Or even worse, the right one. Workplace flirting must always be done safely, doncha know. Especially when the man says it should not be done at all.