Wimp

I'm a big, huge, fat wimp. Most of you who know me personally know how passive-aggressive I am and how I avoid most awkward situations. Well, today I totally avoided a primo chance to talk to the PMG. You see I was out running some errands for the office (read buying cookies for everyone) when I see the PMG a few feet in front of me. Now, a normal person might quicken their pace, catch up to him, and offer him a cookie. My smooth method of seduction: staying back far enough so he doesn't notice, but, in a stalkerish move, I can still see what his is doing. He pretty much got into his truck and drove away, but for a while he was stopped at the same stop light that I had to cross. I had to concentrate really hard not to look in his truck. Oh, the drama.

Now, why didn't I talk to the PMG? I'm not really sure if I want to take my relationship with the PMG to the next of say knowing each other's names. That's just way to much pressure, because I'll have to talk to him every time I see him on the street and that's way too much commitment for me right now. It could also be because, and I might have mentioned this before, I'm a big, huge, fat wimp. There should be a neon sigh above my head that says WIMP with an arrow pointing to me. Look up BRAVE in the dictionary, you won't find a picture of me there. *Sigh*

***Update*** I was just looking for the post I made about the PMG (Priority Mail Guy) and it turns out I never posted it. Oops. The story is he delivers packages to my office and we make eyes at each other and I often get accused of flirting with him.