Clark Kent Syndrome

This is a total aside but pseudo-related. But not really. Anyways...

So you've discovered you're Superman, and that you can fly, shoot heat rays from your eyes, and can punch through solid steel. And that's great, while you're wearing the costume. But, in order to eat, you have to take a job as mild-mannered Clark Kent. Plain, friendly, somewhat supplicative Kansas farm boy that does his job without making many waves. But man, you want nothing more than to sweep the Lois Lanes of the office off their feet and fly them into the clouds for some Mile-High action. But you can't.

When I first joined the company that I work at we had a "Getting to Know You" minute during my first lunch here, where I basically outed myself as a PUA. Why'd I do this? I don't know. A part of me felt compelled to say it, maybe to keep myself in check while working. I was very kino'y with everyone but especially with the girls in the office, and particularly with one of the Account Management chicks (who has since moved on with her career).

I've toed the "sexual harrassment guidelines" line a lot and even went over the edge a tiny bit with one chick. I've since scaled back my kinesthetic endeavours and even scaled back my style of dress (from punk rock leather bands and flashy belt buckles to a lot more subtle wardrobe) for the sake of preserving and nurturing my career here.

...which leads me back to Mr. Kent. We've since undergone some minor staffing changes and brought in some fresh meat new female associates. I haven't told any of the new people what it is I do, or really what it is that I AM when I'm not at work. I don't really feel compelled to tell them, but at the same time I still feel like I'm putting on a show of sorts; I play the nice guy when really I'd like nothing more than to bend several of these chicks over their desks and have some fun with them.

I don't know where this rant is leading, I just felt like putting this out there in the universe.