So let’s get to the base of this. People are talking about this story as if they haven’t actually done it themselves. The workplace is the breeding ground of inappropriate relationships!! Why? Because you spend at least eight hours a day with them (more than your roommates, boyfriend, husband, or kids combined). Because work is generally a stressful situation and having some kind of outlet, some kind of flirty get-away can make a bad day not-so-bad. Because there’s probably as much thrill in the fact that you’re little walk on the wild side is in fact on thin ice. Because people working in your same industry generally have similar interests, backgrounds and personalities.

There are lots of reasons why people find it fun to flirt at work. I mean, let’s get real…finishing a project at COB turns into happy hour turns into dinner turns into karaoke turns into…?? Sound familiar? Probably. So what’s stopping us from pulling a David Letterman and crossing the line? I always thought Dave’s top ten was boring…so here’s just the top five.

TOP FIVE REASONS NOT TO PULL A LETTERMAN:

5. Extortion trials. Enough said (this only applies to badasses or future badasses who will make enough money that people will literally bribe you = me)

4. You can’t wear your beer goggles at work. He may have seemed cute but now every time you meet at the water dispenser, you wanna vom. Neg.

3. Once you pop, the fun don’t stop. You may think you can keep it to “…that one time at O’Malleys” but as easy as that was, the next time is easier. Hence, your decline to workplace drama.

2. Victoria’s secret is really never a secret. Everybody finds out. Everybody talks. I don’t care how “DL” you say it is. It ain’t. So if you want it on the front page of the company newsletter, keep on keepin’ on.

1. GETTING LAID MIGHT GET YOU LAID OFF. (bhm dhm, chh!) As if anyone can afford to lose a job in this economy.

So ladies, pull the skirt down and men, keep the eyes on that Excel chart. A little harmless flirting? Not a problem. But how about you bring that sexual energy to your man or woman of choice? And, if you’re single like me, bring it to the bars.

For now, I’m going to cash this $2million check I just got from Jay Leno. PEACE.

So the bar, 675, is a really fun venue where you play Jenga, Pacman, Foosball…all the classics. They also have $4 Peronis and really great stout drinks, lending this “young-at-heart” bar that boasts an “unpretentious,” quite a hot spot for sexy men…and last night they were smokin’ and all in suits. Just the way I like ‘em.

Well, it wasn’t about me last night but all about this friend of a friend who was at the bar too. What a moron. So she gets scooped up by some of the aforementioned sexy men in suits. For this, I commend her. I would describe her suitor as a Bradley Cooper-Matthew McConaughey hybrid. Again, SMOKIN’. She left and about 45 minutes later, returned pretty shitfaced and stary-eyed. She told of flirting, the free drinks and a quick mention of, “Yeah, he brought up pushing a stroller and that he doesn’t wear his ring when he goes out.” She didn’t seem very scathed. This was a woman on a mission.

I walked back to the bar with her to get some more drinks. As she promptly pushed her chest so far towards his face (she was about five inches taller than thim), I thought they might pop, I happened to look over as he signed his tab. At a bar where they don’t have bottle service and boast cheap drinks, his tab was THREE HUNDRED AND SIXTY DOLLARS. This guy had to be beyond shitty. I headed back just in awe of this drunk, sexy Matt-ley. 

Later on, when I thought the night was getting boring, Andre the giant/mistress came waltzing back to our table. I said “how’s your boy?” and I kid you not, she said, “His dick is just WAY too small.” While I was busy getting beat at Connect 4, she was just plain getting busy. I think time might have stopped when she dropped this slut bomb on me. WHAT????? She went on to describe their flirtacious stroll to the men’s room which led to her tearing his pants off. She said it was like opening that really big Christmas present under the tree and it ends up being a bunch of socks and new toothbrush. Dissapointing.

Can we rewind? The fact that this 35+ scum bag was out getting blackout when he has a child who still requires a stroller and a WIFE at home didn’t bother her but when she unwrapped his package and it was unsufficient, THAT WAS A DEALBREAKER? I actually asked her this and she said yes. She said she’d rather have a man who was married with a big schlong, than a single, emotionally available man with a less than perfect endowment. The even more confusing part of the night was that she complained the whole way back about being single and there were no good guys left.

Ladies, if you want to put an end to the single life..all the bars and the going home with random guys which leads to “emotionless” sex (which is never actually that), then it’s really easy. STOP DOING IT. Stop ignoring the fact that the guy is married and continuing into the bathroom stall where you leave your dignity in the urinal along with his tiny pee-pee. Sure, focus on your career, don’t worry about settling down so quickly and have some fun. But, here’s your problem…you’re choosing the wrong targets. All those ”impossible” good guys are there, but you aren’t finding them in bars…especially the ones with $300 tabs. Hooking up with married men? Where’s that going to lead you? A secret sex-lationship where your name is saved in his blackberry as “David Jones.” Get a grip and if you’re gonna have some fun, do it the right way. And if you want to get a boyfriend, or hell, just a date…maybe you should stop going straight for their zipper and first checking their left hand. And stay away from the bathroom. Nothing good happens there.

A little bit about me and why I’m blogging about my life. I’m 22, work in television here in New York City and think I have a story to tell. Not because I’m particularly interesting or excessively cool but because I think it needs to be said. Everyone’s read/worshippedTucker Max, listening to him bash “chick lit.” Hey, I don’t like chick lit either. For all I care, burn those trash books like “The Time Traveller’s Wife” and hand over Chelsea Handler’s “My Horizontal Life” and a stout drink. Or hell, I’d prefer a beer. So there. Times are a’changin. And I’ll gladly hop on that train and ride it. No pun intended.

I may wander into my college stories but I’ll try to focus on life here in New York. Celebs. Drunkeness. Humor. And hopefully if you’re lucky (but especially if I am), some boys. If they follow my track record, they should  have two very important qualities: play football and have the vocabularly of a 4th grader. Beyond that, just icing on the cake.

Wish me luck and watch me play. Oh yeah, and work too. Stay frat.

So from the beginning…I met this dude at a rando bar in Midtown. I was well beyond my 4 vodka tonic drink limit and when I picked up my credit card there the next day (duh, I left it) I had 6 tequila shots on my tab. Needless to say, I was beyond ridiculous.

We got to know each other (probably too much for public), I left with my roommate and thought this guy was out of sight and out of mind. The next day he called, I answered, he asked for “Ashley, the girl I met at Latitude last night,” and of course, I panicked. I quickly blurted out “You must have the wrong number” and hung up. He was relentless and continued to call and text every week or so and I continued to play stupid. Or just hungover.

I finally gave him the time of day and agreed to a date. BAD DECISION. We met at Max Brenner, a random place in Union Square that serves only chocolate and like two salads. To be honest, I was glad I got there first because I didn’t think I would recognize him. First of all, HE DIDN’T ORDER DINNER. I asked him why he didn’t want to eat and he said that since we planned on drinking afterwards he thought eating would be “counterproductive.” With a blank stare, “Are you planning on BLACKING OUT” I asked in disgust. He insisted that he didn’t but continue to just flip through the menu for two hours as I waited on my disgusting salad and envied other people as they looked like they were having fun on their dates.

After two hours of him complaining about being a minority and talking about white supremacy (awkward), we dashed to go get drinks so maybe this guy could pull the stick out of his ass and have some fun. Just like the way I met him.  And the way I like em. He finished his Jack and Coke before I even had a sip of my white wine and since he “wasn’t feeling it yet,” he wanted us to take shots. I would usually accept this offer, as long as it was tequila he was buying, but I refused because I was trying to be the lady that I definitely hadn’t been the first night we met. When I said no, he immediately said “I failed the test didn’t I?” I looked confused and he said, “Ok, we’re both adults. Rate the date. Like a scale from 1 – 10, rate the date.” I could not have finished my wine fast enough when I said “We should go. I’m not rating this date.”

Our final goodbye was at the subway where he said “So what are we? The ball is in your court” I got nowhere near ten feet from him and said “I won’t be calling you. So don’t hold your breath” and briskly walked to the 6 train, occassionally looking back to make sure stalker boy was nowhere in site.

Lesson learned: dating guys you met at a bar = stupid. Taking shots with a cute guy = good until he wants to do it on a first date. This means he has a problem. And you need to find a new date.