01.01

The copy room was still cramped even after the tech finished re-organizing the empty computer boxes. He tried to make up for taking over the work shelf that the staff used for sorting and stapling, but a two-foot high box was too low for a bench; so he had to share the shelf.

On the screen, he was reading page three of a twenty-page contract when the printer-copier's engine revved up and spat a few print outs. Soon thereafter, she came into the room to get the sheets and staple them. As she leaned her body weight into the manual stapler (forgoing the electric one), her body and hair crossed the threshold of his personal space. No complaints from him surely, as his senses took in the sweet and deep scent of this beautiful woman in the warm and confined space. Life seems so wonderful to him when a woman's mere presence fills Space. Take it in, love it, love life- it's every moment. Take the memory home with you on the train.

She finishes and he thanks her secretly. Again, he reads the contract without feigning attention. Shortly, the copier's servo-motors and gears fill the room with a salvo of quick and precise noises. He waits and hopes that it is her once more, the expectation of her body in the same room as his is a wonderful thought. What a lucky guy he is. She walks in, grabs the print outs and proceeds to staple the sheets in his personal space. He stares past the screen into his mind once more. Time, fill me with this irresistible aroma of woman…She exits again. Back to work Marcos, you're still on page three of 9-point Times New Roman. But shortly, the copier launches into the longest print run yet. He calculates how much more force she will have to put into the stapler… With every page he grins how much more she will lean in his direction. Great. Just great. He looks at the screen expectantly. He looks at the screen. He thinks. He waits, and waits...and then he actually reads again. He realized it was his own print job.

MEM

08.01

I finished my tech work for a client sometime around noon. On Lexington, I approached a pizza shop that looked fairly genuine and I decided to stop in. The place was decorated with family pictures and signed shots of stage, music, and movie stars. I then recalled visiting this shop before, so I knew the pizza would be good.

I deliberated too long over the pizza and figured that for that much lingering, I shouldn't just order a regular pizza slice. The onion, olive, pepperoni looked good so I asked for it.

I found a clean stool at the very corner looking south down Lexington. I looked at the buildings out of the big, unbroken window and then across to the other shop on the opposite side of the street. It was some sort of coffee place with very few customers milling inside. A single woman caught my eye. She moved about almost out of sight in the shadow cast by the hanging window sign. I kept looking at her body, moving. She was wrestless and it made me think of her more.

She moved closer to the window and the light made her beauty stand out. I couldn't go on looking at her without her noticing, so I went back to looking at the buildings around us. The trees also caught my eye and I decided just to leave her alone.

Seconds later a messenger came between us on her side of the street. He noticed her and kept walking towards the inside of the block with his head turned back. He liked what he saw. She was sitting in a captivating pose with her down-turned right wrist at her chin. He smiled. She smirked. And he turned to affirm his stare. He kept admiring her until the margin of the window hid her away. I was looking at him looking at her and I looked into her thoughts; she was flattered. When he was gone I looked at her for myself and we made eye contact across the space.

It seemed she wasn't alone at the shop as someone sat next to her in a pose of familiarity. I let her be.

My pizza was ready but a bit heavy and hot so I drank my juice as she sipped her coffee. When the slice was cooler I lifted it and tried to balance it. I folded it unevenly and had to be careful. She didn't know my technicality, and I didn't want to appear to her like a ravenous pervert. I went slowly on the slice. Three bites in, this other guy crosses the street my way and I glanced at him by chance. His plain white t-shirt read, "Pizza Turns Me ON", and I lost it. Here I was trying to keep my cool and my deepest secret comes walking along on two legs as I try not to lust for the little lady across the street.

I laughed to myself but it subsided quickly, luckily. I was hoping she thought that I just bit into something hot.