Pigtail Pulling

Repression

JIM

This weekend was agonizing. I couldn't figure out where Pam had gotten her cockamamie ideas. I couldn't believe this had me worked up to the point of using words like "cockamamie." That sounds like something Dwight would—

So where had Pam come up with that crazy idea?

Dwight was a man, for one thing, although it surprised me how little this fact seemed to bother me. Admittedly, I had entertained the notion that I might not be heterosexual. I had had what I would call crushes on both men and women, but the nature of the crushes was totally different. With my women crushes, I always found myself wanting to hang out with them, to go to movies, to talk. My whole reason for befriending Pam when I first started at the office was because I just thought she was totally awesome. But with all of my female crushes, sexual thoughts never even entered the picture.

My male crushes on the other hand... I mean, the first time I masturbated I was thinking about my 8th grade English teacher, Mr. Severson. That was the first of many major clues that I might be gay.

The fact that another person had noticed this about me didn't bother me either. Pam was my best friend. If and when I had planned on telling anyone, she would've been the first.

No, what was bothering the me most was that it was Dwight that she had assumed I was attracted to, of all the guys in the office. I mean even Michael admits to having a man-crush on Ryan. All the ladies in the office think Ryan is attractive. But— okay, no. He does not appeal to me at all. Still, why Dwight? Is it because Dwight is usually the focus of my pranks? Pam helps me with the pranks, too. She doesn't have a crush on him. I certainly didn't either.

I had never even thought about him in that way; having sex with him, how his authoritarian personality would translate to his personal style as a lover. He's probably dominant in bed— dominant, but gentle. Oddly enough, I could imagine him taking directions well. If you want it softer, he would go softer, but if you want it harder, he would really give it to you. He'd always be dominant, but not necessarily always a top. I think he would enjoy bottoming as well, and he certainly wouldn't be a passive bottom. He would have his say—

I knew I had to derail that train of thought when I looked down and realized that my body was... responding. Thinking about DWIGHT. At first I felt guilty, and then I felt dirty, and then I felt frustrated at the apparent results of my attempt to prove to myself that I do NOT have a crush on Dwight.

In an attempt to distract myself from where I was currently heading, my thoughts went in a totally, and wholly terrifying, direction. I imagined kissing him chastely, cuddling with him on a couch and watching Harry Potter or Battlestar Galactica, and... and... and it wouldn't matter. He's absurd, he's obstinate, he's predictable, yet... he's surprising, he's steady, and he's funny. He makes me laugh, he makes me— happy, in a weird way. As long as I could be there with him, I would enjoy anything. He's not "hot." You would never see him half-naked on a calendar or in an issue of Playgirl. But he was, well, sexy. At least to me. He was... cute, even.

"Oh. My. GOD."

I totally had a crush on Dwight.

Finally, Monday arrived. I drove to work, dreading my day. I wondered how I would deal with everything that had come up over the weekend. The mind is a funny thing, though, and by the time I pulled into the Dunder Mifflin parking lot, I had seemingly suppressed all thoughts that had been causing anxiety since I had left Pam's. It made it easier to focus on my work throughout the day by not even looking at Dwight. Admittedly, this is harder to do when your desk faces that of the object of your suppressed thoughts, but I mostly managed to push it all down.