Y'all, my bank teller is a hotty. I don't mean hotty like the Hotty Pediatrician is a hotty, because really the Hotty Pediatrician is far less a hotty and far more just my type (geeky, skinny, a little bumbling, rawr). Hotty Bank Teller though, wow. Gorgeous. Legitimately gorgeous. He always works the drive-through, so I only use the drive-through, and every time I do it takes every bit of my willpower to resist flinging myself out my open window and licking the glass that separates me from the Hotty Bank Teller.
Did I mention this guy is built? His biceps are easily the size of my thighs, and I have rather formidable thighs. So not my type, not at all, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't be willing to try it, just once.
Anyway, usually he is sporting the button-down and tie look, which is nice, because while he is doing his paperwork or whatever I can entertain myself with a mental image of pulling on the shirt until all the buttons pop off and... wait... was that too much information? Sorry. Let's just stick with the fact that he usually wears a button down. But then today? Today I went to the bank and realized that my bank observes Casual Friday, which meant Hotty Bank Teller was sporting a short-sleeved, tight-ish but no so tight as to be nasty, polo shirt. It was nice.
I guess what it all comes down to is that I have two questions:
1) Do you think there will ever be a Shirtless Friday? And if so, or really even if not, do you think it would be inappropriate for me to ask if I could maybe just rest my head against his chest for a minute or two? And,
2) Do you think he noticed that I was so busy staring at him today that I sort of forgot to drive away for a while? I don't think it was obvious. I mean, at least not until the bitch behind me starting honking.