At work, we have a vehicle (one prone to traffic jams, I might add) known as the eForm. The majority of the eForms I come across in my lowly position concern homeowner policy changes…but I’ve heard such lore as the eForm that outputs local happy hour locales, brown nosing compliments, and even the occasional bag of Cool Ranch Doritos©—like a digital vending machine.
The other day, I had class—one of the final two I must attend within a year of employment at my current job. Titled, “Respect in the Workplace”, we were educated on company policy, to whom we should report offenses, and the level of safety and comfort we should expect while working.
The touchy subject of inter-office romance was addressed, along with the silly nuances—you can date within your department but you cannot marry within your department—and we differentiated between sexual attraction and sexual discrimination. After an exhaustive discussion that had me pondering the possibility that a writing utensil inserted into my right nostril might just be less painful, our instructor posed the question, “So how do you ask a coworker out on a date?”
Dead silence. I can’t be certain if the entire room was single-mindedly focused on nose-jamming, or if they were all dancing on that line between wakefulness and slumber, but it was so still that Sprint’s pin even refused to drop! Taking pity on us and vying for a little comic relief, the instructor answered her own question:
“You submit an eForm.”