It's sad but true -- I'm just too busy at work to take breaks or even spend more than a few minutes with people to talk about anything other than work. For that reason, a lot of people, even the ones who have been there nearly as long as I have, have absolutely no idea what I'm really like. In particular: I'm really fucking inappropriate.
One of my colleagues found this out some time ago, one morning when she showed up early to make up some time and caught me while I was impatiently boiling water for my tea, so I had a few minutes to chat about Random Things. This means, however, that she delighted in the discovery and does everything she can to out-inappropriate me.
This morning, I was nursing a headache that painkillers couldn't break, and it showed. She came to my office to ask me a work-related question, paused when she saw that I looked like death, and asked if I was okay.
Me: Yeah, I'm all right, my head just can't decide if it wants to spend more time torturing me before it finishes me off.
Her: Oh, that's awful. You know what I heard? Sex really helps with headaches. All those people who say they don't want sex because they have a headache? That's bullshit. You should have sex, it'll get rid of your headache.
Me (without missing a beat and completely serious): Oh yeah, I heard that, too. So, are you offering?
She spent a few minutes spluttering, forgot what she came to ask me for help with, and muttered something under her breath that I didn't catch, but probably wasn't very flattering toward me. That's understandable, because she has yet to win this game.
(She never did remember what she came to ask me about, which is kind of fantastic.)
A little after lunch, I ran into a different colleague, who was wearing a new shirt. I commented that it was nice and it suited her, she shrugged off her cardigan to show that it was a tank top. Incidentally, she's one of the few people who know what I'm really like, but she never thinks of it in time to save herself.
Me: Oh, yeah, because your section is still really hot, right? They still haven't fixed the ventilation?
Her: Nope. So when I go down there, the sweater comes off. It all comes off.
Me: All of it? It's that warm?
Her: It's ridiculous. I walk in there and have to start taking my clothes off.
Me: All of it?
Her: All my clothes. I take them off. As soon as I walk in.
Me: I guess you have to do what you have to do. Oh, hi, boss!
She started to laugh, thinking I was pranking her, but then she saw the little innocent smile on my face. She closed her eyes in I hate you so much irritation, and slowly turned around. Sure enough, our (new) boss was right there, blinking at her as if trying to make sense of what he just overheard while walking past. He shook his head, clearly deciding that he didn't want to know, and kept walking.
By that point, I was long gone, so she couldn't kill me.