Come on Irene

it's true that irene almost always inadvertently makes me look way cooler than i am. but she may now be a part of the reason my co-workers think i'm gay. it's a little like the time those cops thought tim and i were stealing a satellite when we were really just throwing a big screen tv off of a roof.

maybe leaving my gmail open while out on a delivery wasn't the smartest of ideas, but neither was scaling an abandoned bowling alley with a television. these things happen.

"you're checking email instead of working?" my boss asked.

"no," i said, "i'm checking email while working. and only because i sometimes get very urgent mail from my illustration jobs."

and it was, of course, at that exact moment that a new email came from irene.

Introducing Pete was its subject and i remembered the time david sent me an email titled "Meet Russ" which ultimately lead me to being hired as loving doodle's illustrator.

"see?" i laughed, "there's one of my business partners now. it's not like i'm going to stop my work here to send her a response or read thoroughly-- i just skim it, and if it's important i call her on my lunch. but this could be a new client for all i know."

none of my co-workers have any idea what sort of drawing jobs i have and i thought it might be a nice moment to look really cool in front of them. after all, the email came from irene and that's generally what happens when she shows up.

so, i opened Introducing Pete. and i suddenly remembered that i'm not just an illustrator-- i'm an illustrator for a women's dating website, and Introducing Pete was not anything about new clients at all.

but it was too late. we all saw it together.

"oh, a client?" my boss laughed, "you didn't tell us about that job."

laughter ensued.

"wait," i stumbled, "i don't know why she sent this to me."

"sure."

"no, i mean i work for date candy-- but i don't know why she sent me this guy's profile."

there was no recovering. i had fallen into one of those situations where the mocking sentences and cackles blend together to create a humiliating symphony of sorts. even if i had a way to prove them wrong, i wouldn't have been able to talk loudly enough to be heard.

but as someone who commonly speaks before thinking, i am not new to being the center of a painful joke. at least pete koomen's shirt was on-- it could've been worse.

later in the week, irene and i had an over-the-phone illustration chat during which i drew a new date candy cartoon and an absolutely last-minute birthday card for david. neither of us had known it was his birthday-- but we managed something quick.

i asked her why she thought it would be a good idea to send me the profile of an eligible bachelor-- why she expected me to care about pete koomen's love of talking, rock-climbing, and music. i told her she made me look pretty bad in front of my co-workers.

"did you scroll all the way to the bottom?" she asked.

"no," i said, "i didn't get very far into it before i just closed the entire thing."

"you idiot," she said, "go look at it again. go to the bottom."

and there it was, at the end of mr. koomen's personality resume, proof that i'm an illustrator and not a desperate gay man looking for businessy bachelors.

and proof that i am in fact an idiot.

...anyway, if you'd like to check out the other cartoons and irene's datecandy writings [without viewing men's profiles], you can do so right here. i believe we're 1-3 times a week.