I know you hate it when I call you that. You once said it was enough to make a man feel like a boy. But, to be fair, you are very much a child at heart. We have spent five days a week together for a little over a month, 9 to 5, so you could say things are getting pretty serious (the fact that you haven’t driven me crazy yet is truly remarkable). Which is why I’m choosing now to acquiesce to your request and write something for you.
I know it’s not an ode, but what kind of hard-ass would I be if I gave you exactly what you asked for?
You are a pest, my friend. The most delightful pest I’ve ever known. You’re “an impossible combination of looks, charm, smarts, mysteriousness and just generally a badass” (There, your quote is in here). You’re the type of man who will cockily describe himself in the aforementioned manner, but will modestly ignore his accomplishments where others would happily brag. I would never say this to your face for fear of the dangerous inflation to your ego, but you are a pretty impressive dude.
You’re a ridiculous person. You meow like a cat while I’m trying to work, you have significant talent in making up songs that include the word “motherfucker”, and getting a rise out of me is a craft you have mastered (still not sure whether or not I should love you or hate you for this). You make the weirdest faces ever and it’s infuriating because you still manage to look handsome (I know, tell you something you don’t know). You spend the day joking around and laying down one zinger after another, but it’s always interesting to note the moments when you get quiet or serious or maybe just slightly less silly.
You’re a pest because you constantly kick the shit out of my shin under the desk and leave the cap off on my favorite highlighter (I’m 90% sure it’s on purpose). Our occasional stare-downs are especially conflicting, I don’t know whether to roll my eyes at you or to smile because your eyes are pretty and your hair does that “Superman” curl, usually I settle on some combination of the two. Exasperated fondness? I also haven’t forgotten about the time that you took your shoe off under the table and rubbed my foot in your sock feet… just throwing that out there because it still baffles me.
You are, at the same time, frustrating and wonderful. You told me my lips look like the Coor’s Light Mountains and it’s something that I think about every time I apply my makeup in the morning. I’ve decided I like the comparison. You made fun of the fact that an ex of mine called me a “cum-drinker” and made a game of reminding me of that for an entire afternoon (however, you also said you would “scold” the man who said it to me, which was pretty damn sweet).
You manage to surprise me, which is something that very few people are able to do. You’re one of two people in the world that I trust to read my unfinished work, you are undeserving of this trust because you give me hell for everything I do, but for some reason I enjoy sharing with you. Despite your bravado and the arrogant front you put up, you really are an admirable individual. You are incredibly intelligent. You have a sweetness that is so wonderful to see, when you let the smirk down and show it. You are very fun. The most fun. You and I both know how miserable that office can be and you actually make me enjoy those long hours. I believe that you are a strong person, a powerful person, but that you are also incredibly gentle and loving and funny. I’m happy I get to see that from time to time.
You are that “impossible combination of looks, charm, smarts, mysteriousness and just generally a badass”. You are a bright point in my day and the fact that I’m writing this down is primarily because you wouldn’t believe it if I told it to you, myself. (Even though I know that you see through the “tough” me).
You are a pest at the office. Ridiculous, overwhelming, cocky, silly, and ostentatious. You’re my “Pest”. Funny, softhearted, smart, charming, and sweet.
This will undoubtedly go to your head and then you will give me hell for it.
See you at the office.