DEFCON 1 Biker Edition
Things that sound like a good idea when you’re supposed to be working:
Creating a spreadsheet analysing every interaction you’ve ever had with your hot biker neighbour
Googling “what does it mean when a biker gets possessive in the lobby”
Convincing yourself that memorising motorcycle engine sounds is a totally normal hobby
All of the above while trying to explain to your boss why you haven’t fixed Johnson’s code yet
(Spoiler alert: None of these are actually good ideas, and Johnson’s code is still broken.)
Me
HE’S COOKING ME DINNER TONIGHT
Megan
You mentioned that. Three times.
Me
BUT WHAT DOES IT MEAN??
Megan
It means he’s cooking you dinner.
Me
BUT WHAT DOES IT MEAN???
Megan
Do some actual work.
Me
I CAN’T. I’M MAKING A SPREADSHEET.
Megan
Of course you are.
Look, I wasn’t planning to spend my entire workday overthinking everything.
But after this morning’s lobby incident (which may or may not be permanently seared into my brain), I have questions.
Many, many questions. Questions that apparently required a new spreadsheet titled “Evidence That Jake Might Actually Be Into Me (A Scientific Analysis).”
Current data points:
Gets territorial when his club brothers look at me
Thinks about me while doing mysterious club business
Knows my coffee order
Doesn’t want our first time to be on a couch in a pool hall
Plans uninterruptible dinner dates
Kisses like he’s trying to ruin me for all other men (Status: Mission accomplished)
But then there’s the other column:
Disappears on me
Is very guarded about his life
Mystery blonde keeps showing up
Mrs Primrose’s plastic plants are severely overwatered from her “observation sessions”
(Okay, that last one might not be relevant, but she did corner me after the lobby incident to ask if I was “conducting hands-on research for the romance novel.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her that if this were a novel, I’d actually know what was happening.)
And then, because apparently the universe hates productivity and loves drama, I just heard them pull up.
Multiple bikes, including his (and yes, I can identify Jake’s Harley by sound now; this is what my life has become).
I told myself I wouldn’t look. I am a grown woman.
A professional. I debug code for a living. I do not need to...
Oh god, I looked.
AND THEY WEREN’T EVEN TRYING TO HIDE IT. IN brOAD DAYLIGHT. WHERE EVERYONE (read: me and Mrs Primrose’s wine club surveillance team) COULD SEE.
Jake was down there, all leather and trouble, talking to two other club members. And her. The blonde. She was laughing at something he said, her hand resting on his arm in that casual way that screams familiarity. The same arm that had me pressed against the lobby wall this morning.
Me
DEFCON 1
Megan
What now?
Me
SHE’S HERE
Me
WITH THE TOUCHING
Me
IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY
Megan
Don’t spiral.
Me
TOO LATE I’M ALREADY IN ORBIT
Me
WHO DOES SECRET MOTORCYCLE LIAISONS AT 2PM???
I watched as they talked, trying to decode body language through my caffeine-fuelled haze. Google was supremely unhelpful.
Search history (last 5 minutes):
“signs he likes you but has a mysterious blonde in his life”
“what does it mean when a biker plans dinner but also has lots of secrets”
“can you die from overthinking”
“nearest emergency cookie delivery Brisbane”
And then, because all of this wasn’t torturous enough, SHE CLIMBED ONTO THE BACK OF HIS BIKE. His bike. The same one I rode on our dates.
IN. brOAD. DAYLIGHT.
They roared off into the afternoon sun, her arms wrapped around his waist, while I stood at my window wondering if I’ve completely lost my mind. And whether it’s too early to start getting ready for tonight’s dinner. (It’s not too early if I need five hours to emotionally prepare, right?)
New spreadsheet entry under “Things That Make No Sense”:
Plans romantic dinner ?
Gets possessive in lobby ?
Leaves with another woman on his bike IN brOAD DAYLIGHT ?
My emotional stability: File Not Found
UPDATE (3:03 p.m.): Just ordered emergency cookies. Because if I’m going to have an existential crisis during work hours, I’m doing it with double choc chip.
P.S. To my keyboard which keeps autocorrecting “emotional turmoil” to “emotional tutorial”: you’re not wrong. This does feel like some sort of twisted learning experience.
P.P.S. Mrs Primrose, if you’re reading this: your “subtle” thumbs-down gesture when they rode off together was noted and appreciated. Your commitment to Team Eden is touching.
Comments: Still Disabled
Share: Only if you want to contribute to my ongoing transformation into a human disaster