I mentioned the Irishmen in a previous post and seeing that things are a bit quiet today, I thought that I would tell you about them…
About two weeks ago, the receptionist came into my office. There was a visitor for the editor, however, she was not in as she had taken the afternoon off. The visitor just dropped in without an appointment. ‘He wants to know about advertising’ the receptionist said, and because advertising is a part of my job description, I told her that I would help the man.
I walked out, introduced myself, and asked if he would like to join me in the library so that I could assist him… and then he said it… my name in an Irish accent. *swoon*
Irishman 1, as I will call him, followed me into the library. He took a seat and told me about his business and mentioned that his colleague was flying in that evening. He mentioned that they were interested in advertising and wanted to write a few articles for the magazine. I assisted him with all the information and explained how everything at the magazine worked. The drop in five minute visit turned into an approximate 45 minute visit. While we were chatting, I noticed that he was much older than me. I did notice a wedding ring on his finger, however, I wondered if he maybe had a son around my age who was single.
A girl can dream can’t she? 😉
Anyways, by the time he left, I had helped him arrange appointments for the following Thursday at our other offices and I promised him that the editor would get back to him for an appointment, and off he went on his merry way. When the editor got in the next morning, I mentioned the visit and told her to please contact him for a meeting, which she did. I did not hear from them again, so I was content that I did my work and that was that.
Until the Thursday morning when I got to work… and I opened my inbox.
I received an e-mail from the editor instructing me to find a restaurant nearby for a lunch meeting. I scrolled down to where Irishman 1 said that I had helped him so much and that he would like to take us out for an early lunch meeting to discuss the way of the future. That was all good and well, but I was not dressed for a meeting. *face palm* I had jeans and ballet pumps on and my hair was curly and wet.
Anyways, so I called the restaurant and secured a table, I mailed them back and said where the restaurant was and then I rushed off home to put on more corporate clothes, high heels and straighten my hair. I got back to the office in record time.
At 12:25, I heard my name being said in an Irish accent in reception and I knew Irishman 1 was back, but this time he brought a friend….