Dear Handsome Coworker

Dear handsome coworker,

Bad news. I have a huge, huge, no good terrible crush on you. It’s not
my fault. Who wouldn’t be charmed by your adorably boyish smile, your
super friendliness, and your olympic swimmer physique?! (At least
that’s what I imagine is under your business casual attire.)
Seriously, gold medal in my book. You are super smart and super
handsome. I feel like you’d be the perfect date in ANY situation…
James Bond suave, Andy Samberg funny, Barack Obama charismatic, Brad
Pitt rugged, Channing Tatum sexy… It’s a good thing we don’t work in
the same department, otherwise I would think about you constantly and
plan out ways to talk to you… oh wait, I do that already…

Here’s the thing: I’ve been waving off weird romantic advances from
other dudes this summer, hoping that things would develop between you
and me. I put the thought out of my mind for a while since I don’t
want to be unprofessional. But, I changed my mind. Life is short,
we’re interns, and we don’t even work together so if things get
awkward we can just ignore one another for the next two weeks. Now I
want you. Bad.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to date/marry you or be soulmatez 4
ever. I would seriously be happy with a platonic hang out, and maybe
staying friends during the year. How great would that be?! So great.
You’re that cool that I would be thrilled to chill with no romantic
undertones. It’d be hard to restrain myself, but I’d do it for your
friendship, you cutie. But if you’re down, I’m down. So what if we go
back to school soon? Let’s get together and be alright, like the
Beatles say. You’d better grow some balls and respond to my message
asking you on a date…. c’mon man! Don’t leave a girl hanging. Rip
this band-aid of sexual tension off so I can hit it and quit it, or
just quit it.