Matt from IT

Matt from IT is at my desk. Matt from IT looks at me with the most goofy grin I’ve seen since I stopped watching Disney ten years ago. I can tell he’s wanting to say something to me; he’s holding a little box in his hands. Oh no. I thought I had opted out of that stupid secret Santa thing this year?

“Heya Matt, what’s up” I try to smile at him but end up with an unattractive sneer smeared across my face. Matt hasn’t noticed.

“Well, I was, uh, just wanting to give you this… I mean, Merry Christmas Amy!” He thrusts the tackily decorated parcel towards me with the gleeful enthusiasm only a five year old could possess. Or, at least, an early twenties IT consultant with the social capacity of a five year old could possess.

“Oh no, Matt, I’m not in the secret Santa, I haven’t got anything for anyone.” I respond as I attempt to move the parcel a slightly more respectable distance from my boobs, that Matt has evidently mistaken for my eyes as that is the only place he has been looking since arriving.
“No, no, no wait,” he protests as he pushes the parcel into my chest again, “this one is just from me, I don’t want anything in return.” I look down at the little box, crudely wrapped in ‘Merry Christmas!!’ wrapping paper with too much Sellotape. I sigh and take the box from Matt’s boney fingers.

“Thanks Matt, I look forward to opening it.” I rattle out with little emotion. I bend down from my chair to grab my bag to start clearing my desk, but when I surface, Matt from IT is still there. He clearly thinks that because he’s spent money on me, I am automatically somehow obligated to tolerate his existence.

“Um,” Matt starts then seems to struggle with words, mutely opening and closing his mouth while his bushy eyebrows dance across his face in thought. Eventually words spill out of the gaping cavern in the centre of his face, though I don’t hear them. I am too distracted by the eyebrows. “Amy?” The trance breaks.

“Sorry, I was daydreaming, say that again?” I blabber.

“I was asking if you wanted to come have a drink with me?” repeats Matt. Time to panic.

“Um, when?” I say, trying to make time while I invent a reason to be busy tonight.

“Now if you’re free?” Damn you Matt and your gift-giving, I can’t be bought! Time to use that ‘ability to think on my feet’ that the boss gave as my reason for my promotion while staring at my legs. He then asked to take me for a drink. I can’t even remember the excuse I used then.
“Tonight?” I put on a look of surprise, delaying him as long as possible. “Um I can’t do tonight, I’m going to the theatre.” Well played Amy, but what are you going to see? Idiot.

“Oh, anything I’d enjoy?” says Matt with a wink. I grimace internally. I toy with the idea of becoming a nun somewhere far, far away from Matt from IT. Then inspiration hits me like one of those Barclays bikes when some idiot get control of them.

“I don’t know what I’m seeing!” I blurt out a bit too excitedly, “My boyfriend is surprising me!” I watch the smile die from Matt’s eyes and I feel slightly bad for creating an imaginary boyfriend as it’s going to ruin my chances with Dave from PR. I’m sure the news of my ‘boyfriend’ is going to spread like wildfire in the lad circle in the office. Oh well, Dave seemed boring at the office party last week. Looking on the bright side, at least this imaginary boyfriend will keep away some of these unwanted ‘gifts’ of attention.