Candy Gram

Now, normally, I don’t like to start conversations with Overshare unless they’re work related. I figure I get enough of the oversharing without having to coach it along, but sometimes things happen that just can’t be ignored.

One day, Overshare walked by my office wearing something that forced me to call out to her.

Anonymous: Hey, Overshare? What are you wearing on your hand?
Overshare: Oh, this? CTF gave it to me.
Anonymous: Isn’t that a Ring Pop?
Overshare: Sure is.
Anonymous: Haven’t seen one of those since at least sixth grade.
Overshare: Yeah, isn’t it awesome? CTF came to lunch today and brought it with him. And he made this whole big show of getting down on one knee in the middle of the restaurant, and I totally started to freak out, but then he brought out the Ring Pop and asked me to be his lunch partner. When I said yes everyone clapped. Isn’t that so sweet? And it’s totally my favorite flavor, too. [Sucks on the Ring Pop.]

Does anyone else doubt the veracity of the “everyone clapped” statement? If I’m in a restaurant and see some idiot get down on one knee, give a girl a Ring Pop and ask to be her lunch partner, I’m much more likely to give a great big eye-roll than a round of applause. But maybe that’s just me.

Anonymous: So, are you guys back together?
Overshare: Oh, no. He asked though.
Anonymous, incredulously: And you said no??

Now, I am not incredulous at this information because I think she should date the Felon, oh no. It’s more because she’s made such a big friggin’ deal about CTF and Swedish Nanny that I would have thought she’d jump all over the chance to lock him down. Apparently not, though.

Overshare: Oh, Anonymous… please. Of course I’m gonna make him sweat!
Anonymous: Of course.
Overshare: Let him think that he's stuck with Smothering Swedish Nanny! That way, he'll be much more appreciative when I finally say yes.

There I Go, There I Go...

I am 100%, fully, completely, utterly aware that the story that follows is my own damn fault. All that I ask is that you please not judge me for what love drove me to do.

Overshare: I have a surprise for you!
Anonymous: What’s that?
Overshare: Guess who your new best friend is?
Anonymous: I have a new best friend?
Overshare: You will once you hear what I did!
Anonymous: Okaaayyyy….
Overshare: I BOUGHT US TWO TICKETS TO THE AMERICAN IDOL TOUR!!!

It is at this moment that I think I felt the full spectrum of human emotion at once: elation, dread, joy, woe, affection, confusion, guilt, helplessness, anxiety, and delight.

Because, seriously. My coworker bought me a ticket to go see Elliot Yamin. How nice is that, in any situation? But that coworker is Overshare, and she distinctly said two tickets.

And I will admit to you all that I never, not once, considered not going. Come hell or high water, I was going to this concert. Only Death himself would be able to stop me, and even then he would have to pry the ticket out of my cold hand. This is Elliot Yamin, people.

Vote like YAMIN it!

Anyway.

Anonymous: SHUT. UP.
Overshare: Yeah. You can write me the check for $60 whenever you get a chance.

Odd that she chose to spend my money without asking, but whatever—I had a ticket to see Elliot! (Okay, okay, and Chris Daughtrey and Taylor Hicks. Ace Young too, but only for his looks because his falsetto makes me want to stab myself in the eye.) And they were great seats. GREAT seats.

As the day got closer, I began to realize that this was going to cost me a bit more than $60. Like, say, $60 and my sanity. Soon, she started asking me where I wanted to eat beforehand. Then if I wanted to take a half-day off of work to “pre-game” at a bar. (Who pre-games an American Idol concert? I mean, come on. I’m a fan, yes… but they’re no U2 or Coldplay. Or Bon Jovi even, for goodness’ sake.) Then she wanted to take a full day and stalk the venue to see if we could snag a picture with Elliot.

One day, the week of the concert, Overshare came into my office.

Overshare: I’m so excited!
Anonymous: I am too.
Overshare: I’m on a mission.
Anonymous: Really?
Overshare: Yep. I’m taking Elliot home with me for some good old fashioned groupie sex.
Anonymous, flabbergasted: uhhh… I like Elliot too, but...
Overshare, looking slightly disappointed: Oh well… I guess we can have a threesome.

Ok, SO not what I meant.

Not even CLOSE to what I meant.

Anonymous: uh…er…well... uh… [blushes the Blush To End All Blushes]
Overshare: I was just kidding! We probably won’t have time anyway.
Anonymous: I have a lot of work to do.

The night of the concert finally arrived, and I met Overshare at the door. We walked around beforehand, surrounded by tweenagers and grandmas. Overshare kept pushing me to buy an Elliot poster for my office.

(Should I be ashamed to say that I was actually having a good time? In my defense, oversharing was at an all-time low.)

And then, the concert started. It was awesome. Until, about halfway through Bucky’s set, when Overshare put her arm around my chair.

Awkward.

I tried not to freak out, because seriously, it’s just an arm on the back of my chair. But, and my friends will all attest to this, Anonymous and crowds don’t really mix. Anonymous and random touching REALLY don’t mix. So Anonymous + random touching by Overshare in a crowd? Oh, hell no. Especially after the threesome comment. Then, she started talking to me, which if you’ve ever been to a concert you know actually means leaning into the other person and yelling directly into their ear.

And her comments? Usually went something like:

Overshare: I'm sorry I have my arm around your chair-- I just need the space.

Or something like:

Overshare: Everyone probably thinks we're totally that lesbian couple.

So I basically spent the rest of the night squirming in my seat, standing when I could and trying to resist the urge to flee while making sure not to do anything to encourage more talking, AKA touching-leaning-yelling.

But when Elliot came on, finally, all was forgotten. Overshare and I screamed like 10 year olds. And I enjoyed myself.

The next day, Overshare stopped by my office.

Overshare: That was fun.
Anonymous: Yeah, it was. Thanks for getting the tickets.
Overshare: No problem. Sorry I didn’t get Elliot to join us for some fun.
Anonymous: Uh… no problem?

If you ever see a competition for who has had to endure the most in order to see Elliot in concert, be sure to nominate me.

Help! My Swedish Nanny Looked At Me Funny!

Overshare, standing in my doorway: Hee hee hee.
Anonymous: [Attempts to ignore. Yet again.]
Overshare: Hee Hee Hee.
Anonymous: [Silence.]
Overshare: [clears throat.] HEE HEE HEE.
Anonymous: Yes?
Overshare: Hee hee hee.
Anonymous: I’m really busy.
Overshare, sitting down: Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just giddy.
Anonymous: And why are you giddy?
Overshare: Oh, because CTF is coming to lunch today.
Anonymous: And this makes you giddy because…
Overshare: Oh, well, because he’s just doing it to get away from Swedish Nanny.
Anonymous: Things aren’t going too well?
Overshare, with no small amount of glee: She’s smothering him!
Anonymous: Incredible.
Overshare: I know!! You’d think she’d know by now that the way to get a man is to let him have his space.

Okay, I’ve been single for a while now so maybe I’m just not up-to-date on these new techniques, but really? Are we in high school? “The way to get a man?”

Anonymous: And what exactly constitutes “smothering?”
Overshare: Oh, you know. She’s always at his house.
Anonymous: She lives there.
Overshare: I know!
Anonymous: So, of course she’s always there. She’s unemployed.
Overshare: Yep! And it’s the best thing that ever happened to me, because CTF can’t wait for her to get deported! He even said he was considering reporting her to INS himself!
Anonymous: Is she doing anything illegal? Her visa isn't expired.
Overshare: Oh, well, CTF said he would just make something up.

Lunch Stalker

One of the unfortunate ramifications of Witty Comeback being offered such a fabulous job in a far away location is that Overshare has decided I need a new lunch friend. And of course, she knows the perfect person to fill the job: her.

This shocks no one, I know.

But her version of becoming my lunch buddy doesn't just include her stopping by my office every day asking when I'm planning on going to lunch that day, or scoping out the local paper for new places to eat, or even hounding me on her way out the door to eat about joining her. Oh no.

She has now taken to waiting for me to leave the office, and then quickly following me out and feigning surprise at running into me in the food court.

I was sitting at a table outside one day, reading a very interesting book when Overshare approached to start her daily campaigning. I tried to look irritated, to no avail. I tried talking about how good this book is; the hint sailed right on by. She sat down and started talking. I finally just put the book away and stared at my plate while she droned on.

Overshare: Man, it's bright out here. Wanna go inside?
Anonymous: No. I want to eat here. You can go in if you want, though.
Overshare: Oh no, I adore the sun.
Anonymous: Even when it's bright?
Overshare: Well, it wouldn't be so bad if I had my sunglasses.
Anonymous: [Silently picks at food.]
Overshare: Yeah, I really wish I had my sunglasses.
Anonymous: [Silence.]
Overshare: Definitely a sunglasses day.
Anonymous: Hmm.

Clearly, Overshare wanted me to ask where her sunglasses could possibly be.

Overshare: Guess I should buy a new pair since CTF doesn't seem to be giving mine back any time soon.

Guess I was going to have to ask.

Anonymous: Why does CTF have your sunglasses?
Overshare: Oh, well... he was drunk at a bar one night and started mouthing off to this big burly guy and ended up getting the crap beat out of him.
Anonymous: And so he needed your sunglasses why?
Overshare: He's got two hideous black eyes. He's been wearing the sunglasses all week because he worries that two black eyes makes him look like a sissy.

Oh, well that's cleary taken care of when one wears something akin to these. Not sissy at all.