Semi-Goth Chick

So, Mean Mr. Mustard immediately asked me after he read a previous post (see the last part), "So, who is the semi-goth chick?" I believe he expected me to point her out in the halls. But you have to understand goth, where I work, is less goth than it would be anywhere else. Corporate culture has diluted its gothiness until it is only a pale immitation of what it is to be goth. Not that you can't be hot with just a bit of goth (I think that's the only way to be goth and hot - but that's my personal opinion. Don't be offended if you're gothy - I really mean that you must be one of the hot ones because your gothicity is just this side of the goth line you would cross where I'd find your gothiness overriding your natural youness)...but I don't think any real goth would consider you goth. Hell - working where I work alone would disqualify you.

With that knowledge firmly in hand, Mr. Mustard and I were crossing the skyway for coffee, him walking in front with Ming where he can't see me, and semi-goth chick walks past. Mr. Mustard immediately turns around, almost bounces, wiggles his eyebrows just the smallest bit and gives me the universal body language equivalent for "Her?"

Indeed.

So, either my language is so poetic as to elicit the exact picture of the person in question amongst 6000+ coworkers, or my friends are exactly in tune with what goth would look like in our corporate domain. The later I think.

Speaking of coworkers, Tall Brad now calls me on his cell just so I can't laugh when my spy phone identifies him as B.J. He sucks.