My Co-Workers

Within my construction job I have a lot of "co-workers." Everyone on the site is my co-worker, technically. However, when I speak of my co-workers I'm usually talking about my fellow traffic control people. We're a very special club, and it takes a lot to get in. Watching the entirety of a video more cheezy than the sex-ed ones from high school (no, really, Sammy The Sperm has NOTHING on the chick in the armor in the CDOT Flagger Certification video....) and taking a test that it is impossible to fail. Why is it impossible, you ask? Because, my friends, should you fail this test that you are allowed to ask questions during, you will be handed your corrected answer sheet, told to go over the questions you missed, and given a fresh answer sheet, to take it again.

Yes.

Like I said, a very exclusive club.

Anywho, my co-workers are a varied bunch, and only my favorite ones leave much of an impression at all, the rest of them tend to fade into the landscape. Which, in some cases, is the way they prefer it, and who am I to argue with them?

Several of my favorites are guys, around my own age. They're people that I know outside work, socialize with, and one of them can blame me for getting him into this whole mess.

I've known T since we were kids. His older sister has been one of my best friends since elementary school, but it was only recently that T and I began socializing much on our own rights.

For some reason, everyone is convinced that T and I are a couple. Some of them are obnoxious about it, maintaining the claim even after we both explain that it would be akin to incest for either one of us to think that way about the other. Since we can't seem to convince them otherwise, we've decided to have fun with it.

One guy in particular is convinced that I have VERY round heels, and that they're round for everyone on site... except him. Thanks to his firm (and fanatic) belief in this, I got treated to him taking his shirt off and doing one of those manly show-off-the-chest type stretches. Which I normally wouldn't argue with, as I like a little eye candy as well as the next girl, but this one had me searching the first aid kit for the mental iodine.

After that, he was fair game. One of his favorite assertions is that T and I "fool around" in the pilot car. So, as T was giving me a break (supposedly the time when we're supposed to be fooling around) I made the suggestion that it might be entertaining to find out just what kind of reaction we got if I... disappeared... as we were going by his particular flagging station. T found the idea entertaining as well, so I hid in the floorboard, while T drove by. The stubbornly deluded gentleman in question was facing away from us as we were going by... so T honked the horn and gave him a thumbs up as we went by.

Knowing that the fact that I wasn't visible wasn't entirely an indication of anything, I planned ahead, rolled my seat back a little further than I usually do, slumped down into the seat in a languid pose, threw one arm up on the steering wheel and made sure I was smoking a cigarette as I went by.

No fallout on that one yet, but we haven't worked with the guy since.

Of course, T and I are fairly comfortable with each other, probably encouraging the idea that we're dating.

Today, he was being a brat and sat on the window opening of the Silver Streak after I'd rolled it down to talk to him, so I reached out and pinched his butt.

You know something? T sounds remarkably like one of those damsel in distress types you see in the movies, when you pinch his bottom unexpectedly........