The compulsive winker

I have a reputation at work for being a compulsive winker. Ever since my days in the police I have been known for my subtle wink, which I finish so quickly you could say it was a ‘blink and you’d miss it’ job.

I like a good wink, because it is less obtrusive than saying ‘how are you?’ or even a ‘hey’. With a wink, you can even be holding a conversation with someone else, and yet acknowledge the presence of a friend or whoeever with the barest twitch.

Recently though, my love of winking at the office has been raising some office eyebrows. The designer girl, who I sat opposite on my first ever day, duly reported back to my soon to be colleagues that “the new guy” had made several passes at her in the duration of the morning.

Several days later, and another girl stopped walking passed my desk because she felt I was winking too much at her. Then, when I started to stare obviously at a wall whenever she came close, she accused me of ignoring her.

Another girl simply and straightforwardly admitted that she thought I suffered from some bizarre weirdo facial tic.

Even my boss  confided to me that she too has now started winking compulsively.  “I even do it to clients,” she said, “it’s most embarrassing. And I completely blame you.”

Maybe it is time to slow down. Perhaps I could train the other eye to wink simultaneously – i hear it’s called ‘blinking’. But the damage is already done, so why stop now. A winking problem is hardly solved by turning the other eye.

*This is a true story, but it’s funnier if you spelling wink with an ‘a’ instead of an ‘i’.


5 Responses to “The compulsive winker”

  1. Tom Says:

    You were always were a winker. However the french love a good story about a winker – just read The Diving Bell and the Butterfly.

  2. Wanker with Windsor knot Says:

    I think your wink may be a ‘knowing eye’ (or gnawing A, if you insist on transposing vowels). As you demonstrate in your expose, the French are impervious to it.

    While the office was a perfectly un-lubricated place before the arrival from Australia, it is now finding its own voice thanks to hoodwinks and basic laughter.

    Before, it was a red-eye, French Catholic-Girl Scout, San Jose wannabee, equine-leaning, self-flagellating a-gency. It has now evolved into a more normal habitat for imperfection.

  3. Nat Says:

    Aah – that old chestnut “I’m not cracking onto you, I’m just a compulsive winker” line. Heard that one before. (Actually not, but if I did I’d be totally impressed with it and wonder how to get you to crack onto me)

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