The office was, fortunately and unfortunately, a cubicle farm. I say “fortunately” because an open-office plan was definitely the worst-case scenario. I couldn’t imagine spending the next 6 hours trying to act normal in public.

I chuckled to myself at that thought because, well, mood, honestly.

A cubicle farm meant that I would have a slight bit of privacy – if I could find my cubicle. I couldn’t walk up and down every aisle until I found my cubicle, looking for Becky Hayes’ nameplate or maybe a picture of her nephew. Becky Hayes would just know where her cubicle was and go straight to it. No no. How was I going to find someone to take me to her cubicle?

“It is a funny day, isn’t it?”

The man who walked past looked roughly my-age-ish, mid-20s, with sandy hair in the dumbest fringe haircut I’ve ever seen. He was wearing a brown suit too. Ugh. Men should only be in grays and blacks. This is my unsolicited opinion that I will never, ever share with anyone, of course. If “boring” was a person, this guy was probably it.

But if Mr. Boring could take me to Becky’s cubicle, I’d…give him a free coffee.

“It’s such a weird day,” I said, falling into step with him. “I thought today was Saturday.”

“That’s so weird,” he laughed. “I’ve heard of people being off by one day, but that’s…many days.”

I forced a laugh. Where was this guy going? It was not further into the cubicle farm.

We passed by a door that read SUPPLIES, and nearly ran into someone emerging from it. This was a woman this time. She had the chunkiest belt on over a cute burgundy dress, and she had shiny chestnut hair, in perfect beachy waves. The sort of hair you only see in Hollywood films. The sort of hair you only see about 5 minutes after you emerge from the hair salon. Here she was at 11 AM on a Tuesday with picture-perfect hair.

If this were a movie, I’d peg her as the protagonist.

She blushed. She blushed profusely. She said, “I’m so sorry, Ben.”

“Oh, hi Katie,” Ben smiled.

Girly blushed even more.

And then Ben kept walking.

Katie Perfect-hair took a moment to catch her breath, then smiled warmly at me. “Hi, Becky,” she said brightly, “I was worried about you!”

“Katie, your hair looks gorgeous.”

Katie blushed and looked down at the ground, twiddling her hair and kicking at the carpet. She shifted the ream of paper in front of her to hide behind.

Finally she overcome the Horrors and said, “Thank you, I like your blazer.” She straightened, stood up straight, still holding the block of paper in front of her as a shield, and said, “Wh-what were you and Ben talking about?”

“Just that it was a weird day.”

Katie nodded.

“Since I thought today was Saturday but it’s actually Tuesday.”

Katie nodded again. She still had that smile on her face but it was starting to look strained.

“So are you going to ask him out?”

“WHAT?” Katie began a fast walk away. I turned and followed her, since I had nothing else to do. Maybe this was how I would spend the day: screwing up the relationships of everyone else. Becoming a relationship fairy, maybe. Wave my magic wand and turn humans into couples.

“Becky, I cannot,” Katie whispered. I had not committed a grave transgression with my suggestion, judging from the tone of her voice. “Becky, I absolutely cannot.”

“Why not?” I asked.

I’ve never had any breaking that barrier with guys. Sometimes, they’ve said no. Sometimes, usually really, they’ve said yes. You can usually tell how the conversation is going to go long before you get to that point of asking. Men are not subtle creatures.

Katie stopped. She grabbed my arm, and pulled me through a door.

This door led to a room with two printers/copy machines. There was also a server in the corner. Just, there, completely exposed, blinking its computer blinks. The room was longer than it was wide, so it seemed a sensible setup. I was confused by the situation, but also amused, but also thankful that since I was standing in a room that had a purpose, it would look like I, too, had a purpose. I could continue avoiding trying to find Becky’s desk.

Katie busied herself refilling a tray with the paper she had retrieved. I stood over her, as if supervising, but mostly because I didn’t want to look suspicious and unoccupied. Katie started at the copy machine, waiting.

“Are you waiting for the machine or are you avoiding the question?”

Katie shuddered. She said, “Becky, it’s been two years. I don’t know. I don’t know if he likes me.”

“How could he not?” I asked.

“He’s so popular,” Katie muttered. “And I’m like this.”

“Like what?”

Katie was silent.

“How do your conversations usually go?”

Katie shrugged. “You saw. I say hi, and he says hi. And then he talks to someone else.”

I actually had no idea how to reply to that. That level of intense reaction for that level of conversation? Holy mother of built-up feelings, Batman. I leaned on the copy machine and felt the machine whirr beneath my elbows. I hummed along to it, because why not? Katie smiled at me doing so.

“Okay,” I said. “Here’s the plan. You need to have a bigger conversation than that. Not—not that big, girly. Listen. What is his job again?”

“Um…Account Coordination.”

What the fuck was Account Coordination?

“And what’s your job?”

“Administrative Planner.”

What the fuck was Administrative Planning?

I rubbed my forehead. By the time I had unfolded my head from my ass about this, Katie was already stepping out of the room. I followed her.

“It’s not difficult,” I said. “Just don’t talk about feelings. Don’t even ask about his likes. What’s a thing you like to do?”

“Listen to musicals.”

“Okay, fair,” I said, “Very fun. When was the last time you did that?”

“Hadestown did a six-week showing,” Katie said. “I did that, but also I recently discovered Bonnie and Clyde the Musical.”

“I heard that show was terrible.”

“Probably. But have you heard Too Late to Turn Back Now? It’s such a catchy song. I was dancing to it all weekend.”

“Neat,” I said. “Great. Fantastic. Look at you, look at how you look when you’re talking about something you care about. Do that in front of him. Just walk up to him and start talking.”

“About musicals?” Katie blushed again, shielding her face with her abundant hair. “Men hate musicals.”

“Then talk about something else. What else do you like?”

“Food.”

“Same,” I said. “I had a pecan pie from Proper Pie the other night. The crust was overdone but the filling!”

“I haven’t been there,” said Katie.

I held up my finger before she could continue. I said, “Save it for Ben.” She frowned, so I continued, “All humans love to eat. Walk up to him, and start talking about food.”

Katie frowned. She tugged at the skirt of her dress. I supposed I might have missed the mark a bit, telling a slightly-heavy girl to talk about food in front of a guy she liked.

That was when a man emerged. Yet another be-suited man, but this time in a nice charcoal suit, dark Ivy League hair, and a square jaw. He frowned at us. Of the three men I had encountered so far, he was the least-terrible-looking. He also had had the audacity to wear a dark blue shirt instead of that weird pastel blue, which is a Choice, and I can respect a Choice.

“Miss Clark, Miss Hayes,” he said.

Katie (Clark) froze. She clutched her parcel of documents in front of her. Her eyes were looking in Mr. Choice’s direction, but they were unfocused. He, however, had his eyes entirely fixed on her. He had said my name, but I did not exist. I eyed him again. He seemed to have some sort of authority, and perhaps his nice suit made him seem older than Katie and Becky…but maybe he actually wasn’t much older than we were. If I moved my head slightly, I could see the fingers of his left hand. They seemed bare. The man had wonderfully broad shoulders, which did provide a nice visual counterpoint to Katie’s hourglass figure.

The man had said four words and zero verbs, and I was already a bigger fan of him than I was of Ben Generic. Beneric.

Of course, he was likely a boss. That was definitely problematic. If he were her direct boss, but maybe…?

“Is pie really that interesting?” asked Mr. Choice.

Was he fishing for an excuse to talk to Katie? Bravo, my man.

“It can be,” Katie squeaked.

“So interesting,” said Mr. Choice, “That you need to shout about it loudly enough for the whole office to hear?”

Okay, that statement was not on the Love Agenda.

Heads had popped up over the walls of the cubicles. I tried to get a Vibe Check. Curiosity? Fear? Rolling Insight was so easy when you play D&D, but I didn’t have a DM guiding my experience. Everyone’s expressions were blank. Katie shrank even further behind the printed documents. Her hair was falling in front of her face too. Mr. Choice’s eyes widened. His arms unfolded.

“Please keep your volume in mind, Miss Clark,” he said. “I will see you after the info-share.”

Then he walked away. I studied him as he left. Not the most confident of gaits, but it was also a fairly normal one.

I turned to Katie, who was still hiding behind her hair and her print-outs. I said, “Coffee?”

Katie nodded.

“Whenever you’re ready,” I said.

After all, I had no idea where the break room was.