I Was A Feminist

It was the early '70s and I was working at a very hip and happening ad agency in Toronto. I was a very hard-headed feminist — I was there for work and work only. I didn't really care about making friends or socializing. Anyway, I played enough in my time off. And if guys were making eyes at me, I was too focused to care. I certainly wasn't there to find a husband.

But there was this one guy, Adam. You'd have to have been dumb, deaf, and blind to not notice how attractive he was. We got along well professionally; he never tried to hit on me or ask me out for drinks, and I always felt respected and like he responded well to my ideas, not how great I looked in my bell-bottoms. 

Things started out innocently enough, just a lot of looks, smiles, and small talk. Then, at the office Christmas party, when everyone was liquored up, he took me aside and presented me with a gift, out of the blue. It was a small gold pendant to put on the gold chain. It was beautiful — real gold — and a completely inappropriate gift to give a coworker. But I loved it. After that I wore it every day. 

Somehow nothing happened that night — I think even then I felt it would be too cliche to have a post-Christmas-party fling.

Weeks later, after one particularly good day at work, he asked me to drinks. I was elated by my business success, and turned on by his Warren Beatty-esque smile; we barely made it to the elevator before ripping each other's clothes off. Drinks never happened. 

After one amazing night, it was gone. Everything felt awkward on Monday. Gone were the flirty raised eyebrows and shared smirks. Neither of us tried to follow-up, and he transferred shortly after. — Janess

Submit to our next round-up. 15 Stories: Biggest Courtship Blunders. Remember that time, when you were certain you had it made with the man or woman of your dreams? And then you ruined everything with one ill-timed quip, spilled drink, or sneeze? Tell us about it 75-100 words, on our Facebook page or to submissions@nerve.com