If I wanted to date a coworker, I suspect I’d spend almost as much time imagining the workday afterward as the date itself.
The appeal is easy to understand. We’d already have something to talk about. I might know their sense of humor, how they treat people, whether a conversation with them makes a long afternoon feel shorter. There’s something inviting about liking someone in the middle of an ordinary day.
Then I picture us sitting at neighboring desks the morning after one of us has said, very kindly, that there probably won’t be a second date. There would still be work to do. Neither of us could conveniently disappear into a different social circle.
Even a good date would leave questions. Would we want the same amount of privacy? Could a friendly exchange stay ordinary once other people noticed? If one of us had authority over the other’s work, the question would become more complicated before we ever picked a restaurant.
What catches me is the phrase “without messing anything up.” It asks for a guarantee before anything has happened. I could imagine being considerate, taking things slowly, and leaving room for an easy no. I couldn’t honestly imagine controlling every awkward feeling that might follow.
So the question I’m left with is smaller and harder: would I want to ask this person out enough to share an ordinary workday with whatever answer they gave me?
