In this office. . .

. . .there is a key to a large storage room that only I and one other employee have access to. We've come to call it, "The Jerk-Off Room".

An hour ago, I was in "The Jerk-Off Room", alone. From the peace and dark of the room, I heard two faint voices from the other side of the door. This was then followed by the sound of keys. Then those same keys grinding into a lock.

Dear Reader: Take a minute and try to think about what your alibi would be if someone found you in a storage room with the lights out, shirt un-tucked and laptop open.

Here's mine:

I began typing, feverishly, on the keyboard. "Oh, hey." I reached out and closed the laptop that was displaying a page from The Hun.

"What are you doing in the dark?"

"I come in here on my break. . . to write. It's quiet in here. I like that."

Following a few more words, I quickly shot out of the room - making no more eye contact than I had to.

As I walked the perimeter of the building, giving by breathing a chance to catch up, I thought to my one saving grace. Had I not been a man of such discriminating taste, I'd be out of a job right now.

For once, sexually insatiable fickleness - you saved the day.