The Work Wife

So ladies and gents, I was a bit unsure of where to start with the little saga of the work wife and I, so I decided to go right from the start. There are many a learning I took from my “friendship” with my work my wife, the overarching being that work involvements nine out of ten times are a bad idea and why some boys, well, l they’ll never grow up … 

I felt grateful getting off the central line at 8am, I had realised that the hour commute in was the equivalent of what I imagine running a marathon would feel like; hot, sweaty, uncomfortable and uncalled for. I looked up at the sky and it was as grey as the apartment blocks and offices along the walk to the office. Life had been pretty boring recently, training was samey, I wasn’t dating and as it was winter nights came in quicker, London definitely wasn’t as fun.

As I sat down at the desk in the near empty office, I realised I was pretty bored by most things at the moment. After being in London for a year and half, the night life had become pretty boring and I found myself asking myself if London and my job was what I wanted to do long term. I am pretty sure that most of us hit that point approaching 30 (but a post to come on that soon) where we feel a little unsatisfied and unsettled, but I brushed it off at the time.

As I sat down at my desk and the office started to fill up, my manager reminded me we had a new starter in the office that day, meh. Like life recently, that one had been a little bit of an anti-climax. A colleague had teased the girls (me included) in the office that a new guy, a bearded tattooed beaut (to be specific) was joining our team. Well, you can imagine…

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So you can imagine the girls (and my) disappointment when I tweed blazer laden, curly haired, quiet guy came in for interview.

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The guy starting in the office was called Henry when I had interviewed him, I had found myself being more interested in what was happening in the Starbucks than what was being said. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he was kind of cute, not really my type (FYI, not a requirement in an interview) but just seemed a little quiet and well… a bit boring.

Any whoo, Henry starting in the office wasn’t interesting or distracting. I gazed round the desk and my eye was caught by my friend Hannah who was chatting to a cute guy from finance at the end of the table. Hmmm, I suppose that was slightly more interesting. I was a little worried about my friend Hannah, she had had a particularly rubbish time dating and Sam (the finance bod) sat at her desk every day, I could see, probably wasn’t going to help with that. I generally got bad vibes about him as he seemed to be accompanying one girl after another around the office, like a chinoed pimp. I mean, give the guy credit, he was pretty dreamy, if you like that whole preppy Clapham look (I don’t). I would chat to her about that another time.

As the afternoon came round, I had managed to get through all my emails and was a little bored. Luckily, it seemed the rest of the team had got a similar vibe. I had a really great team at my old work and when things quietened down, the banter was always fab. That afternoon was no different. Jokes flew around the table (usually me being wound up by the boys – you know who you are) and I noticed quiet Henry in the corner not saying a word, jeez, I knew it was his first day and all but crack a smile hey? At the  time, I can’t even remember what I said, but I definitely picked on Henry a bit and I’ve never quite seen anything like it, but…


I felt pretty bad, I didn’t mean to make him perspire at the rate of Niagra Falls. I backed off and let the poor guy get on with his work…

Anyway, the days and weeks passed work continued to be boring, as did my new colleague Henry. I had gone past the point of feeling bad about teasing him after a couple of days and carried. He eventually had come out of his shell more and actually cracked the odd joke. As I was saying, it was a pretty average morning again, when my Skype for business popped up….

Henry: Fancy Breakfast?

Meh, sure, why not? I headed down for breakfast with Henry and we chatted about the weekend. I was surprised when he told me he had a really heavy one, he didn’t strike me as the type whatsoever… 

He asked me what I had been up to and I told him I had spent most of the weekend blogging and training, he asked for the link and I sent it to him over email. From then on Henry and I started having breakfasts most mornings, he was actually a pretty sweet guy and over the next couple of months, I actually started to class him as a friend. We talked about work, family, the weekends (his and I’s were rather different) and I still couldn’t quite grasp the reserved super cool guy I chatted to every day being this wild party animal. 

Anyway, I told Henry about my disaster dates, he told me about his heavy weekends and I always thought it was sweet when he would sent me links to blogs I would like.

And we definitely flirted .. A lot.


I mean, come on, when the office is boring, a bit of harmless flirting doesn’t go a miss.

It was weird, as Henry definitely wasn’t my type, in fact, with the partying, far from it, but what’s that thing… where you start to fall for your captor? Stockholm syndrome? (lol, I joke) but you get me.

Anyway, after a few months off dating, I had begrudgingly re-downloaded the apps and been on a couple of non-dates, you know the one’s I mean…


You wish you’d stayed home instead.

One morning the night after I decided to stay in and write, instead of wasting my time with non-dates, I got a message through on Facebook at 8am.

HENRY: “HR Specialist”

What was he talking about?

Eeekk, it then twigged, he had seen me on a dating app. Always a little awkward with colleagues, then again, it was Henry, oh well.

“Hey!” I replied “Bumble? And why are you awake so early? Pondering life again?” (something Henry did on the reg).

Henry replied explaining he had been on an “absolute bender” (lad) and had blown £200.

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The dots still weren’t quite connecting here for me. He just didn’t seem like the type. We continued to chat and he moaned about having to go out and party all day again.

“You don’t have to go out again if you don’t want to” I stated quite matter of factly.

“Yeah, I do, I’m that guy” he responded.


I sent the emoji violin, no sympathy, you are made of your own choices. 

“I prefer sober Henry if I’m honest” I replied.

“You know it!” he responded.

I went offline. Still. didn’t. get it.

The next weekend, Henry interrupted my morning with a new dilemma. Drunk Henry had been a bit of a fool and tried it on with his housemate. Okay, so I had to laugh, drunk Henry was turning out to be a bit of a wide boy. Luckily, the next week, a works night out was on the cards and I was pretty sure drunk Henry would make an appearance.

Sure enough, the Thursday came round and the team were out for drinks. As always, work drinks on a Thursday got out of hand and before 9pm coffee patrons and tequila’s were out. I chatted with the girls and after a couple of drinks, went to try and find the boys.

Through the evening, I had chatted with the boys briefly but hadn’t managed to catch drunk Henry (although had caught him looking over my way a few times). Finally, I managed to wave down the boys and went over (to know doubt be teased buttt it was fun – like having grown up annoying brothers) and catch up. Henry was there and given how much we spoke out of work, I chatted excitedly to him. It was then, Henry behaved in the strangest way…


He totally blanked me. 

Surely that was a mistake? We had all had a few drinks, we chatted all the time. He had no reason to ignore me. Anyway, as the night went on, I realised, it wasn’t a mistake at all.

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Every time I tried to chat with Henry, I would be met with a blank. For anyone that truly knows me, being ignored is the worst for me! I am too open and honest to understand stubborn people.

By the end of what should have been a fun night, I wanted pizza and had a face like this…


I had no idea why my friend was being so rude and finally, after being ignored for the 10000 (not dramatic) time that evening, I went over to confront Henry.

And the moment I confronted Henry, ladies and gents, is where the work wife and I started on our bit of a saga.

Looking back, that night, I was being played like the violin emoji I had joked around with earlier and turns out, it wasn’t just drunk Henry that was a bit of a fool, sober Henry actually came in a close second… 

Thanks for reading and enjoy the next post! 



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A twenty - something (seven) single year old living the London life. My life consists of eating and wanting to stay thin, wanting to party and also eat pizza alone in bed, working hard or hardly working and dating. My blog is around mental health, life in London, dating, brunching and on the odd occasion stalking dogs! Enjoy - it has been as fun living it as it had writing it <3

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