I fell down the Twilight rabbit hole around the end of December. I've been obsessed ever since, immersed in everything Twilight and loving every minute of it. My husband, Mr.Coffee, likes the series, too, and we kind of enjoy it together...each in our own way. (For instance, he digs vampire baseball and CGI werewolves but RPattz doesn't make him hot. Btw, Mr.Coffee is endlessly amused at how us Twihard ladies call Rob “The Precious.”) So I’m fairly comfortable indulging in my obsession while in the comfort of my home.
However, I've been hesitant to reveal the Twilight side of my life to anyone at work, for fear of at best - eye rolling, at worst - open ridicule and criticism. I've done well guarding my secret at work. That is until a few weeks ago in the break room when I was caught off guard by a smokin’ pic of His Royal Hotness in a copy of a rag mag that some thoughtless co-worker left haphazardly sprawled across the lunch table. It happened so fast…I set my lunch bag down, started to pull out a chair and caught sight of the feast set before me. I froze and let out a very audible and breathy gasp - an involuntary reflex caused by Robjaw - some of you know what it is I suffer from. Two co-workers happened to be at the table and would have been deaf to not hear the noise I made. They both look at me and say “Whaaat?” I stutter and stammer trying to think of a good cover like “I forgot a fork for my salad” or “Shit, I forgot to punch out”. But before I can spit it out, one of them follows my gaze which is locked on to the magazine like a tractor beam. She leans over, reads the caption and says, “Oh. You like THAT guy? Bleh!”
At that point it was too late. The vampire was out of the bag. I blushed and mounted a passionate yet futile defense of Rob’s magnificence. The odds should have been in my favor since both these people were women and 90% of Earth’s females are hot with RobFever. But they both look at me in quiet amusement as if I had just sprouted a tail. They proceed to lecture me in a condescending tone about who really is hot in their opinion, such as Harrison Ford and Sean Connery. Outnumbered, I sighed in momentary defeat and silently vowed to eat lunch in my car from now on.
Fast forward to today. I leave the office for a while to take a deposit to the bank and return to find a strategically-placed sticky note on my computer screen: