wasn’t an obstacle for this little plan. If anyone asked why the hell I was wearing a jacket in August, I told them: after my run-in with That Crazy Virus, I’ve tended a little toward the cold side. The AC blows on me all day at work, so it was a genius way to cover up what no one was really noticing anyway. Made me feel better, at least.
So hoodie sleeves = good.
There’s dot number one.
Late-year weather can’t come soon enough for my liking, but when autumn slammed down an early cold front, suddenly everyone was decked out in ugly sweaters and flannel. And hoodies. Having totally rocked the shit out of my hoodie up to this moment, I reached way outside of my box and grabbed something a little dressier, a little more fashionable. A little less me. Instead of hauling out a bunch of moth-eaten cardigans that even Mr. Rogers would have taken a pass on, I opted for some long-sleeved dress shirts to add a bit of aim to my game. Nothing fancy; I’m not posing for a Kohl’s ad or anything. Just wanted something that was slightly more presentable than what I wear on the regular, yet still serves to lend warmth and cover up my super-whiteness. And if it happens to sharpen my appearance, which is never not in desperate need of sharpening, then so much the better. Anything would be a step up from my brainless corporate uniform of wrinkled polos and faded khakis. So I grab a few lesser-worn items from the back of the closet, and suddenly I’m a brand new man… or vampire. Brand new man-pire.
Man-pire.
Whoa… I think like the sound of that. It’s sort of an okay compromise for the moment.
So anyway, woohoo for shirtsleeves.
That covers dot number two.
Something about long sleeves in my office always sets off buzz. Not sure if it’s the visual impact of not being able to see someone’s arms anymore, or just the added formality of extra fabric. Whatever the reason, they never fail to stun. My first full-sleeves day drew way more attention than I wanted, and not from nearly the desired sources. At least three people asked me if I had an interview for another job. One asked me if I had run out of wrinkled polos and if this was the only clean shirt I had left.
Asshole.
But the overall impression I think people took away was that Joe had spiffed up a little, was standing up straighter and looking people in the eye instead of walking in his typical European field worker slump. Not that I’m trying to impress everyone there. There’s only one someone in that place whose opinion of my sleeves matters to me.
Probably pretty obvious, but in case it isn’t: It’s Chloe.
Boom. Dot number three also happens to be Girl No. 3.
She always, always compliments me when I dress up, and in light of my new Just Do It attitude, I guess these sleeves were probably more than a little bit for her benefit.
If only she had been here to see them.
She’d been traveling back and forth for some big project recently, and this particular sleeve-worthy morning fell on the day she was supposed to finally be in the office again. We’d crossed paths in the hall once or twice over the past several weeks, I having slightly less anxiety about my vampire appearance with my hoodie sleeves in place, but she was always dashing off somewhere so I hadn’t had time to lay my moves on her. And I didn’t want to be rushed, so I just winked and smiled a hello. I did notice the last time I saw her she looked troubled, and it seemed to be more than just work stress. Where the sight of me used to make her a little happier, it really had no effect that time, and I got the impression that it might be more personal than professional in nature… not that I peeked at her thoughts to find out, anyway.
That would just be rude.
Plus: she was moving too fast for me to get a read.
She was supposed to be back the morning of All Sleeves Day, but after my eighth trip to the copier we’d had no accidental-on purpose running-intos. So I grabbed a couple of random forms off my desk and loped around to her department, slyly “searching” for “someone” to help me with my “papers”. Passing her cube gave no sign of her, but her cubemate Delilah