Jan came to my job this afternoon with juicy, ripe mangoes in tow. But he came to check out my fling. In came this tanned, 6'6'' blond Swede carrying a plastic bag full of mangoes. He came upstairs and met me at my desk. I was wearing one of the new outfits he sent over two days ago; He fawned over how good it looks on me. He knows my style so well. He then set the mangoes on my desk. "They were on sale at Jewel's!"
Is being overly generous a Swedish thing? First three great outfits from his boyfriend Henry's boutique, our expensive sushi dinner, and now delicious mangoes. Who knows what else will come this week. I wonder if all Swedes are this generous to their friends.
Jan's not exactly the best influence on me at work: Last time he visited, he sauntered innocently to my desk and opened a bag to reveal a bottle of Sauza, sliced limes, and a mini salt shaker. His dog had just died, and we were both incredibly depressed over it. We did shots out of cone paper cups from the office's water cooler. The office buzzed around us while we imbibed shot after shot. In honor of G, his beloved dachshund, we got drunk in the worst place to get drunk. With the help of a few mints, I made it through the rest of the day without anyone noticing. I think. I hope.
Back to the fling: Jan took one look at Him and whispered, "He's dangerous."
I didn't ask if he meant it in a good way or a bad way. I don't think it matters.
Anyway, mangoes for dinner.
Thanks, Jan.