“No, hon, these machines hate everyone. You’re not special,” I said with a smile.
Sheldon laughed. I loved that sound, so carefree. “You’re probably right. But you, hot stuff, are special. When are you going to let me take you to dinner?" Sheldon asked me out all the time.
"Please. You're just being nice to me. Nobody wants to take a chubby dude out on a date, unless he's desperate."
"I would. You look just fine to me. Keep that in mind, you hear? Thanks again for fixing the copier, sweet thing.”
I chuckled and shook his outstretched hand and he scratched my palm with his index finger. As he let go, Sheldon licked his lips and winked at me. He blew me a kiss and walked away from the reception area, toward the back of the office. His tight slacks and the suggestive sway of his hips left nothing to my imagination, as usual.