A Case of Mistaken Identity

Dear Diary,

In my efforts to meet new people and become "one of the gang."  I have been trying to talk to and meet lots of people that work near me. For example, sitting across from me is the Chief Risk Officer ("CRO").  What a privilege for me.  This allows me to get to know someone that's a part of the Executive Senior Management team here at [...BEEP...].  It also helps me to get to know other people because they see me talking with the CRO and that might help them warm up to me.

Moving to the next office that is across from me, I decided to introduce myself to Mr. X.  He has an office and so I start to think that he, too, is important.  Boy was I wrong.  Reflecting back, I have learned four things that should have tipped me off that meeting Mr. X was going to be [CREEPY].

I should have known something was terribly wrong when:
1) Mr. X became very excited to talk with me.

It was almost as though I was the first conversation he has had with another employee in months.

2) I noticed the enormous key ring Mr. X has on his belt buckle every day.

What on earth do you need all those keys for?  Once I had four keys on my key ring and I had to downsize to three because I felt like a walking tambourine.

3) I noticed the copious amounts of items in his pocket protector.

Seriously?  Do you really need a pen-thermometer?

And lastly, the fourth lesson I learned was:

4) Every morning when I walk into the office Mr. X says, "And how is Mr. Matt doing this morning?"

One morning I tried to pretend to not hear him, but he followed me in to my office to say it again.  Ten minutes later we had talked about his weekend and the dollar dance he had with a bride at some wedding.

Well, there you have it Diary.  A case of mistaken identity.  Needless to say Mr. X and I are now BFFs and we eat lunch together regularly at Rubio's.  How am I ever going to get out of this?  Maybe if I "accidentally" throw you at his face you can give him some severe paper cuts.  Then he won't be able to talk to us for a few weeks.

Nah, too violent.  I'll keep thinking...
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