...in a world where not even cell phone numbers are sacred

Imagine my surprise Friday morning to check my cell phone voicemail messages to discover that Pete has discovered my cell phone number and called me to ask about what to do on a project Jann's making me work with him on. I checked with the front desk staff--none of them had my cell phone number, so they didn't do it. Regardless, I needed to find a way to make sure Pete didn't get in the habit of calling me on my cell phone. It's a private number on a personal cell phone, not one provided by Design Associates. And frankly, I rarely answer the damn thing anyway. I usually check it once or twice a day just to see if anyone called, but ultimately it's only for friends and family.

So, when Pete came up today to show me his progress on the work I gave him, I asked if his number was a certain number that had called my cell phone twice today already. "Ummm...no," he replied, a little unsure.

"Okay, good," I said. "I should let you know that if you ever do need me, call me on my office line or email me--my cell phone is personal, and only my family calls me on it. If you call, I won't pick up."

"Oh! Well," Pete said brightly, "Do you have programmable numbers? Cuz then you can--"

"Calling my office line or emailing me is the best way to get ahold of me," I repeated. "To help you with what you're doing, I need to be able to see you or your computer screen, and I can't do that if I'm on a cell phone."

"Oh! Well, if you ever need me--"

I interrupted him again as he pulled out his cell phone. "Pete, if I'm ever in such dire need that I'd have to call your cell phone, I'm just going to give the work to someone else and have you finish up whatever they don't get to when you get in."

"Oh." Pete almost sounded deflated. "Hm. When I worked at _______, they expected you to be on call 24/7."

I laughed good-naturedly. "Man, you and I aren't paid enough to be on call." He had a good laugh too, and I curtailed his attempt to chat further and sent him on his way to finish the redlines I gave him.

Here's an introduction to Pete if you're late to this story. Pete continually sets off my Weirdo Radar, especially with the following comment about choosing an Advocate, which in our office is someone who is kinda-sorta a mentor or person in your corner. He made this comment after the office party,where I'd met his wife and he'd met Guy:

Pete: So, I asked Sutherland to be my Advocate, and he agreed.
Me: Ah, he's a good choice. You both have a fair amount of experience, and he'd be better to give you advice than I. I'm a better Advocate for folks right out of college.
Pete: Well, that and it's better than having to explain to my wife that my Advocate is this cute little woman I work with.
Me: [stunned and at a loss for words] Oh, hahahaha. Well, you really need an Advocate who has more experience in the workplace in general.
[more banal conversation followed, Pixie makes a hasty retreat and resists the urge to wash her hands twenty times]

Ooky. I told Sarge about the above conversation, and he recommended I tell HR about it. I told Guy about the conversation, and he got a good laugh out of it. "He keeps giving you the smoochy eye, and you keep knockin' him down!" Guy crowed with a cackle. Guy's observation is that he's trying to feel good about himself by office flirting (or whatever kind of flirting I'll let this turkey get away with) with a younger, accomplished woman. However, I keep setting the boundaries and cockblocking him, and he'll slowly, slowly have to get the message: she's just not that into you, punk.