The first ad I posted on Craig's list Saturday morning was meant for Scott F., whom I work with. The heading, "Do you feel the same way, Scott F.?" I said in the ad that I was having yummy thoughts about him - did he know? Could he tell? I wasn't sure he'd ever look at personals, but just had to try.

An hour later, when I got back in from a run and checked my mail - I was surprised at how quickly Scott had responded.

He said he liked the heading of my ad, and knew right away it was me. He said he liked me too, but he worried if going out wouldn't endanger our already competitive working relationship. So! That was why he didn't flirt with me, looked at me as if I were particle board. It always made me feel unattractive. I had to go reapply my makeup a few times a day. I looked for his non-interest, then took a break and lined my lips and colored my lids brighter.

I responded with a new heading, "I hope you're the right Scott F." The part I didn't understand, I wrote, was why he felt we're competitive? I mean, we are both HTML coders in a huge company -- we work for different divisions. I asked if he had blond hair and a goatee since it would be unsafe to give names or say where I work.

This morning, Sunday, 20 new e-mails from Scotts. All of them with blond hair and goatees - crushed out on some woman at work that sounded much sexier than me. One of the Scotts said, "I imagine your enormous boobs in my mouth and can't manage my staff anymore." Another Scott said, I never understood that scent you wear, like a blend of Je Reviens and Patchouli oil." A sexy looking Scott (a picture of him in bed half naked) said, "I never thought a talented writer like you would ever even look at me, so I'm hard all the time now and in a lot of pain."

At work, I can't look at Scott. He seems nervous, but maybe he always did. He chews his nails and whistles when he walks to the coffee area. It probably has nothing to do with what I'm wearing - or my luminous smile. Now I avoid him, eat outside alone facing the mountain. I feel like I don't know who he really is. I keep thinking about the half-naked Scott, wondering if I should take a writing class and change my life.