I first met the new(ish) guy at the fancy, designer office coffee machine.
"Oh!" he said shaking his head, "I'm not so sure about that brand name."
He looked skeptically at the coffee maker.
"I know what you mean," I agreed.
"Flavia?" he questioned.
[Pronounced FLAY-VIA by our office mates.]
"It doesn't sound good," I said.
"No," he agreed, "It actually sounds kind of naughty."
"I've always thought so too," I admitted.
((((FLAYVIA, for your warm drinking PLEASURE.))))
((((Stimulating caffeination deep, deep, inside you.))))
There was much chuckling -- and I'm sure I also snorted.
It's bad enough that when the phone on my desk rings it makes this very low, sexy soul music sound that makes me think it must be Barry White calling for a booty call.
I actually blush when the phone on my desk starts ringing.
[Don't you DARE call me.]
I thought the workplace blushing was limited to caffeinated beverage preparation and telephony.
Late last week, new(ish) guy and I were in a meeting about an awards program.
I kept thinking I misheard our colleague because she seemed to be referring to the "Deep Hole" Awards.
I interrupted the meeting to say,
"I'm sorry. What did you say? The WHAT awards?"
She slowed down for me,
"Deep Hole," she said again.
I still couldn't believe it.
"Did you say, D-E-E-P H-O-L-E?" I asked again, spelling it out.
"No," she sighed. "D-POL - it's an acronym."
"Phew," I said, "I was wondering what someone would have to DO to win a Deep Hole Award!"
And this was the opportunity new(ish) guy had been waiting for because he leaned over, elbowed me and said,
"I'm TOTALLY nominating you for one."
Apparently they are awarded to those who drink too much of the Flavia.