So there's been a hottie at work recently. He appears to be a tutor of degenerate boys. He is a sharp dresser: creased dress slacks, crisp shirt, shiny belt, clean face, smart glasses. Boy, does he play the part well.
I started gabbing about him to a few of my co-workers. "Who? There's a hot tutor? Is he your friend or something? What's his name?" No! He's just a hot guy! He's the tutor that comes in who's hot! I don't know who he is! Gosh!
The other day I gave a heads up to a co-worker that the hot tutor was in-house. Guess what? He walks by and to my horror he's wearing corduroy pants--pleated, tan, wide-wale corduroy pants realistically about 2 sizes too big. My hot tutor was dressed like a total fashion incompetent.
As my fantasy disintegrated, my co-worker just shook her head and said, Don't judge a book by it's cover. Sigh. I know. Maybe he just doesn't have any business-casual pieces in his wardrobe.
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