Pepsi Guy was in the building.
I knew he was because the staff room had emptied at lunchtime, and there was a severe lack of lettuce on the table.
The last time Pepsi Guy came in the same thing happened. Like a Pitt/Clooney magnet he drew the girls to him and they took up residence in the room that he was working in, nibbling on their leaves and giggling as he laid the new carpet. Don't get me wrong, I could appreciate his adonis looks but the empty staffroom was calling my aching head. Well that, and the fact that I was wearing a too small t-shirt with 'Easy' written across it that I had borrowed from a colleague whilst my 'nose bloodied' top was in the wash.
"What are you doing in here?" a shopping laden Dementia asked (apart from being part of the Gin Co-op I also work with Dementia - very clever, she crunches numbers), 'thought you'd be oggling'.
I explained and then asked her the same question.
"Oh don't worry about me" she smirked "I had him in the office for an hour filling out paperwork, he got it all wrong and got very hot. I've already had my moist moment!"
(Must write that one down somewhere.)