Is That A Protractor In Your Pocket?

Have you ever had a TMI moment? You know, when someone divulges way too much information about their personal life and you don’t know where to look?

That happened to me at work today. We’ve been busy this week with publishing deadlines and stuff and the office has been abuzz. A veritable hive of activity.

Margot, one of my bosses (her husband is the other part of the double act) has been very cranky all week. Snapping away at insignificant things like who took her stapler in the shape of a turtle and why someone had put blue paper in the fax machine (she did).

I must admit that I was getting to the end of my tether with her frequent histrionics. Over nothing. It’s hard enough meeting deadlines under ordinary circumstances without someone jumping up and down in the background going : Look at me. Look at me. My needs are much more important than meeting the deadlines. Just look how clever I am at finding more and more irrelevant things to go on about. Blech.

I was going to tell her to back off this morning. I can act like a mild-mannered office drone to a point but sometimes I have found it pays to go off. So there I was all gung-ho and full of indignant zeal at 9AM, ready to let her know how obstructive she was being, but she threw me, she really threw me.

With this -

You would think a Geometry Set was fairly innocuous, wouldn’t you? Well, not this one.

Seems that Margot has a bit of a fetish. She likes her husband to dress up as an architect (not sure how that looks – suit, glasses, clipboard, rolled up plans under the arm?) and ravish her (her words, not mine). The ravishing includes measuring certain body parts (by this stage I was feeling too sick to ask which ones) and drawing them on those huge sheets of paper architects use for their plans. Then she and her husband do some remodeling of their own (also her words).

Margot was in a good mood today. A great mood. Obviously the plans were completely approved by the local building authority (if you know what I mean….)

When I arrived at work the Geometry Set was lying in the hallway. There were several sheets of architect’s paper strewn here and there. ‘Doing some renovations?’ I innocently asked.

Then Margot sought to enlighten me. It is a peculiar feeling when someone lets you in on what floats their boat. There is definitely a moment where you think: Is this really happening?

I am interested in people and their fetishes. Shoe sniffing, French maid’s outfits, dressing up as chickens, putting stickytape all over yourself and getting someone to rip it off. Leather, rubber, chocolate syrup, glue. I’ve heard it all. I don’t have a fetish myself, unless being interested in other people’s fetishes counts.

The architect one is new to me, so is my usually standoffish boss treating me as a fetish confidante. I feel like a naughty little schoolgirl stealing jock straps from the boys locker rooms to keep in my desk and giggle over later.

It changes things for me. Knowing this. Oddly enough, it has placed my boss in a more favourable light. At least she has human-type needs. Rather than the demi-god wants I imagined her possessing before. However, I am not sure if I will be able to look at a set square or a protractor in the same way again. Let alone use that little wooden ruler. Sometimes TMI is just that – way too much information.