No wonder it's called a CRUSH

Image courtesy of Theeradech Sanin at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I’m good at hunting down adorable guys at cafes, restaurants, work, and around the hood and then I start calling them my boyfriends. Generally, we don’t exchange more than a quick conversation or some banter about the weather but sometimes we have a strong and beautiful relationship, which just means that we talked for more than 10 minutes and that I'm in love. Most recently I’ve had about 3.5 work boyfriends (that shall remain nameless for their safety and my own). They’re adorable in their own way: snazzy outfits, dorky jokes, winning smile, sneaker addiction...basically, they're all keepers.

Work crushes are the perfect victims, they give me a reason to get up every morning and to get dolled up, they give me something pretty to look at, and also offer up a good laugh or ridiculous story. In the past, my work crushes have ended with a cross-country move, a marriage, a resignation, or an earth-shattering revelation. Recently, my world and heart were crushed when I found out that my newest (and most dapper) work boyfriend is but a mere baby, a PYT if you will. He is more than 7 years my junior, meaning that in another world or lifetime I could have easily been his teenage babysitter. Is this my life now? And a better question is why are there so many young hooligans running rampant in this city? And why are they now popping up at my place of business?