It’s interesting that Andrew chose last week to inform us all on the dangers of office hookups ’cause I really could have used his advice sooner. Or at least before last Friday.

Not like I would have listened to anything he had to say, but at least those thoughts would have been lingering in the back of my mind when I decided it was a good idea to fool around with a co-worker. And can I say—big freaking oops.

Now, Andrew says that most of the tension will arrive after the horrible hook-up. I did not encounter this. Well, I did, but I got a lot of grief before it happened too.

I work in a small office of about 12 people. Of those 12, 5 of us are women, and the competition is already fierce. It’s not my fault that I’m new and the sour puss who sits across from me (with really bad makeup that I want to wipe off her face all day long) seems to have a major problem with me already. It is perhaps my fault that I have a little thing for one of the guys there, and he seemed to feel the same way.

We communicate by IM at the office even though the place is so small that all we really have to do is shout to the next desk. After a couple of weeks, instead of getting instructions from, let’s call him, Chris on what task I should be working on, I started getting, “Do you want to go to lunch? Don’t say anything though, I don’t want anyone else to come.”

I’m thinking that this is great. Not only do I hate the bitches anyway, but I get quality alone time with Chris. The more I’m around him, the smarter and more wonderful he seems. We laugh constantly, we start hanging out after work—things are going well.

I one day “mistakingly” mentioned that he and I had had drinks the night before and it was like I had dropped a bomb on the room. The click click of keys stopped, and all the girls whipped around (yeah, for some reason they keep all of us together—bad idea). “Oh, I didn’t think the two of you were really friends,” says pancake face bitch across the way in her snootiest of voices. Which is really snooty. God, I hate her.

After this little episode, every time I got up to pee someone was asking me where I was going. I would bring work back to Chris’ desk for a legitimate question, and someone would always have a random reason they needed to be there too.

Suddenly I couldn’t go to lunch alone, one of the girls was always ready to eat at the time too whether I went at 11, or 3. Comments like, “so are you and Chris still hanging out,” casually asked constantly. Bitchy girl tension all day long. Sometimes, girls are just too much. Why are we so mean to each other?

And yeah, Chris and I were hanging out a lot. He had come out a few times with me and my friends, and everyone thought he was great. We started taking our flirting to an extreme all-over-each-other point and my friends asked if we were going to cash in on the obvious connection. Which finally, after a night out on the town together we did.

And it was great. It was comfortable, exciting, pleasant. While I’m dozing, nestled up against him, he starts saying things like, “I hope this is the first of a lot of nights you spend here.” BLAH BLAH BLAH. Seems sweet, right?

Then I get to the office on Monday. Chris normally comes in at 11:30 (I haven’t been clocking him, or anything), and he doesn’t show up on this day until about 1. Maybe he had a meeting. I sit and wait for him to IM the second he sits down like he normally does. Nothing. I wait for him to come out and check up on my project (AKA stand behind me with his hand on my shoulder) like he normally does. Nothing. I wait for him to give me something to do even. Nothing.

Finally at about 4, I meander back there. “Hey what’s up?”

Chris: “Nothing.” Doesn’t even look up from his screen. Hmmm. Ok.

Me: “Was the rest of your weekend OK?”

Chris: “Fine.” Still doesn’t look up from his screen.

Me: “My train ride back to CT was brutal. I was a bit more hungover than I thought.”

Chris: ….silence. Then, “I’m kinda busy, can we chat later?” Um, no. We can’t.

Me: “Yeah, sure. You want to grab a drink after work?”

Chris: “Gonna be here late, got in late.” Fuckwit. You did it on purpose, didn’t you?

Me: “Ok.” I turn and walk away. Befuddled. What happened to I-hope-you-stay-over-many-more-nights-Chris?

Can’t say anything to the girls because them not knowing is obviously better than them knowing. Can’t call my friends because we all sit fucking on top of each other. Can’t take a cigarette break because I just got back from… four. Sit rest of day pretending to do work. Am in fact writing pissy emails to friends about the situation. Want nicotine, caffeine, and ally. Have none. 6:30, when I can leave, takes forever to arrive.

Now we sit in a small, tiny, box-like office together where he’s so close I can sit there and smell his cologne. I feel like an ass because he just played me HARD, and I had been under the impression that this was going somewhere.

At our twice a week staff meetings, I tried one sitting next to him where I normally do and it was so tense I thought I was going to pass out, and have since moved across the table and out of sightline. And I know that everyone has noticed this. Now, I can’t control my blushing when one of the other guys looks back and forth between us and raises an eyebrow in question.

And I have a feeling it’s just going to get worse. I got one email from him last week: “You around for the holiday?” Oh, are you trying to make peace now bitch, cause it ain’t gonna happen.

Moral of the story: DON’T FOOL AROUND WITH CO-WORKERS.