Today, I had an ego-boost. Random client told me I was attractive. Which of course, I have no idea how to deal with. But good thing. Made me put on lipstick and check my teeth for broccoli.
I learned things, also. One, lipstick is good for making for relaxation. Two, the interpretation people are in Panama. Ah, you ask, how did you find this out?
His name is Luis.
For those following the saga of my flirtations with interpreters and the frightening level of my social life, Luis is a new one to me. Gorgeous voice, faint accent, very interesting. How would I know this?
Why, that would be the fact I spent thirty minutes on the phone doing my level best at flirting cross-culturally while he translated for me with a client.
Yep, thirty minutes. Because I wanted to be THOROUGH in understanding what the woman needed, and yes, I admit it, I'm a phone slut.
We're about five minutes in and Luis stops me while I'm mumbling to myself while trying to get the computer to give me info and asks me my name.
Huh, thinks I.
"Jennifer." He made me love my name. "Your Spanish is very good."
Okay, that is totally some kind of translator pick-up line. Him and Juan. Phone-flirters.
"No, really, senor, I'm seriously not."
"Your accent is very good."
Well, maybe. I practically hear nothing but Spanish all day, so everything I'm learning now is pretty much exactly as I hear it. But I blush, because, again, pathetic. And God, he must be bored.
And God, I'm an easy phone-lay.
"Thanks. That's really nice of you."
work stuff, work stuff, work stuff, then....
"I had problems learning English."
"Really? You barely have an accent." Only a sexy one, I might add, but didn't, because I'm kind of a shy phone slut sometimes. "Where did you learn?"
"//insert random Northern state here//, but it got easier."
"Did you enjoy it?"
At this point, office is listening in and grinning.
work, work, work....
"My aunt is from //insert South American country here//. Her English is perfect except right after she's spoken Spanish for a while."
"I'm from Panama City, Panama."
"Are you in Panama now?"
Question answered. I'm calling Panama to get an interpreter. Dearest God.
work work work
"Como se dice 'weird' in espanol, Luis?"
Luis laughs. "Raro." Sexy rolling rrr's. Dearest God times two. Say it again, Luis.
"Que?" I'm subtle like that.
God is good.
Work, work, work. Flirt, flirt, flirt.
Dammit, client is leaving.
"Okay, Luis, gracias for your help. You've been amazing." Because he gives good phone and deserves praise.
"If you wish to request my services, my extension is letter-number combination. I'd like to be of service again, Jennifer."
He seriously makes me love my name.
And jenn dreamily writes it down, wishes him buenos dias, and gets off the phone.
Office is giggling hysterically.
Jenn is blushing. Everyone is laughing. I'm amazed that I have so little shame.
Coworker asked me what I'm doing for teh fourth of July. I was like, sleeping, of course. At this point, everything is charged with sexual energy, because, well, see above, pathetic.
Okay, that thing where I swore off dating until I felt I was emotionally ready? Oh please. Emotionally ready my ass. I'm hitting on foreign interpeters via phone. This says seriously scary things, dont' you think?
But man, that voice....