he tried to call dibs on the pussy...

aiight, it's a wrap. i'm gonna have to cuss this fool out in front of his peoples.

i've been professional.
i've been accomodating.
i've been friendly.
i've been firm.
i've been succinct.

i've been everything i thought i needed to be in order to let him know i wasn't interested. meanwhile, he said he'd accepted my answer, but his actions are telling me a different story.

case in point - it was last wednesday and i was walking into the hallway in front of my office with my co-worker art. art, an older caucasian gentleman who also happens to be a really cool dude, had just taken me out to lunch and we were shooting the breeze when i looked up and noticed african dude kingsley (from here on known as a.d.) was standing in my office evidently writing out some kind of note to me. a.d.'s friend was standing just outside of the doorway and art paused to greet him as i squeezed past a.d. to get into my office.

"oh, i was just writing you a little note," a.d. said as he saw me sit down. he handed me a sticky sheet. glancing down, i read what he'd wrote.

kingsley was here to see you.

i look up and he's wearing the crooked grin. you know, that grin that reminds one of a painting that's hanging just slightly askew on the wall. i wanted to tilt his face to level that smile, but i knew touching him would be a big mistake.

"cool." i replied as i placed the note on my desk and went into my 'i'm too busy to talk to you right now so get the fuck up outta my office' move. for those of you unfamiliar with this highly effective strategy for ridding yourself of office pests, i'll lay down the steps for you:

1. furrow the brow and look around your office, pausing for a second or more at the piles of paperwork strategically placed around the office. in this case, i always make sure i've got a stack of something next to my desk as a prop.

2. say something like "man, i've got so much work...". be sure to do it with a hint of both determination and frustration in your voice. this balance is important, cuz if you look too frustrated you'll come across like you're overwhelmed and underskilled, which is never a good look when you're at the gig.

3. look at your monitor with intense concentration. make sure you've got something complicated and hard to discern on the screen cuz you've gotta make it seem like not only do you have alot of work to do, but that work is gonna require all of your mental faculties, thus making conversation with someone impossible. in my case, i usually keep a window of programming code open. nobody around here knows that shit.

4. during the first three steps, do not acknowledge the person's presence in your office. you want him/her to feel as though he/she's interrupting you while you're in the middle of something.

now 99% of the time, these are all the steps you need to get someone out. meanwhile, i don't know why i even bothered to go through the moves with a.d.

"so you were on lunch?" he asked as my heart sank at the realization i had to step up my tactics.

5. answer only in monosyllabic words, preferably 'yes' or 'no'.

"yup."

he stood there watching me. silence swirled around the room, occassionally punctured with the sound of my fingers on the keyboard. i waited for him to start his exit.

"you went to lunch with him?" he asked, sounding irritated. 'him' being art. i continued staring at the monitor before me, trying really, really hard not to roll my eyes.

"yup."

"where'd you two go for lunch?"

gawDAMNIT.

"'uncles'," i finally answered after internally debating if i should just kick his ass out for forcing me into answering with a word more than one syllable long.

"where's that?" a.d. asked, determined to squeeze more out of this exchange. i finally looked up at him with barely veiled patience. SHIT. now he got me using SENTENCES...

"it's offa 14th street," i replied reluctantly.

"oh YES. i know of that place."

i turned back to the monitor. at this point, art had stepped into the doorway of my office, intent on continuing the conversation we were having when we were interrupted. before art could even open his mouth, a.d. was talking again.

"i heard they make great sandwiches."

the sigh escaping me was loud and long and i was barely holding on to being civil. i could feel art's eyes on me as he took stock of the situation.

"i'll talk to you later, nikki," said art after a moment, uncomfortable as he glanced up at a.d. and noted the proprietary look on his face. i was looking at a.d. too, and getting angrier by the second.

"aiight, art," i grounded out, "i'll talk to you later."

a.d. remained standing there, watching art leave before turning his attention back to me. i was squinting my eyes, thinking about how to end this conversation as abruptly as possible without causing a scene.

"i thought you didn't take a lunch," his words, woven with accusation, blanketed the space between us.

"i generally DON'T," i replied with a defensive stab through the blanket, "art kept asking though and i figured it better to just go than to keep saying no."

oh boy. THAT was a mistake.

"so all i have to do is wear you down..." he concluded, a smirk on his face.

"but art is STRICTLY a friend," i added quickly, "he's not trying to make moves on me."

a.d. raised an eyebrow.

"you don't know that," the smugness in his voice making me bristle. damn, can't a man take a chick to lunch without having designs on her?!? and come ON...ART? i can't even imagine it when i'm drunk.

"dude. you're seeing things," i replied disbelievingly before adding on the sly, "and how's your wife?"

a.d. looked perplexed at the shift in the conversation. then he slit his eyes and replied with a knowing grin.

"she's doing fine."

it was time to wrap this shit up.

"good for her," i said, turning back to the computer, "i really need to get this work done."

he stood there for a moment, staring at me with goodness knows what look on his face. then he leaned over and focused his attention on my phone.

"is that your office number?" he asked innocently. i saw him checking out the digital face on my phone where the office number was displayed. aw SHIT. now i could lie, in which case he'd call it and confirm the lie, or i could just tell the truth. i figured i'd give him a little bit of both.

"yeah," i answered in truth, then added the lie, "but i don't take personal calls on it."

he looked as if he didn't believe me. at this point i really didn't give a shit, cuz the man was acting like he had dibs on the pussy and i had to check him before his behavior got more out of hand than it already was.

"look..." i began as i speared him with a determined look, "you really need to stop trying to make this situation more personal. you're married, which means you're off limits to me. there are plenty of sistas out there willing to get down with you regardless. you should focus your attention elsewhere."

he looked on calmly as i went through my little speech. once i was finished, he planted that crooked smile on his face before responding as he backed out of the doorway.

"i only want to be your friend," he said placatingly, his hands in the air as a form of truce, "but i'll give you more time to think about it. bye, nikki."

i shook my head in disbelief. once he was gone, i had to acknowledge that the situation now requires a heavier hand. this shit is bordering on stalking for real.

any suggestions on how to fix this? i'm REALLY partial to cussing his ass out in front of his co-workers. i generally don't go for such dramatics, but i'm thinking this is the only way the brotha will step back.