"Oh here. I got you a shirt."

Which was really, really odd, because I don't even know the girl's name. But there she was, standing between me and the free shirt table, all tall and thin and long-dark-haired and rather delectable, handing me a free shirt.

Bewildered, I take it from her, say thank you, and return to my desk.

An hour later, bored, and wanting to see what the hell that was all about I return to the lunchroom and the free stuff. There are bags out now, rather nice belt-attached thingies. I take one and then realize I should really take a second, and carry it back to where I remember her cube being.

She is standing in the cube, looking around like she's wondering what to do next.

"Oh here," I say, "I got you a free bag."

She looks me up and down. "Thank you" she responds, and then there's this pause during which I imagine her taking the bag, our hands touching, running up and down each others' arms, pulling us together, our lips brushing, hands on hips, lips on necks, sinking to the floor together, "but I already got one."