Will You Or Will You Not Be My Back-Door Man, Kevin Lindauer?Commentary • Opinion • ISSUE 31•09 • Mar 12, 1997 By Paula Lampert, Cellucom Client Services Rep Paula Lampert Cellucom Client Services Rep Well, we've been working together here at Cellucom Electronics Systems for almost a year now, and there is something that I've been just dying to ask you: Kevin Lindauer, will you or will you not be my back-door man? I meant to speak with you about it after the staff meeting Monday, but Bob Phillips caught you first to discuss those changes we made to the Digitech proposal, so I didn't get the chance. I very much would like to ask you now, though. Would it be possible for me to squeeze your lemon until the juice runs down your leg? I would squeeze it so hard that you would fall right out of bed. I believe it would be a very good thing if I were to do that. There are many times when I should be thinking about ways to better customize software and improve outsourcing options for our service-sector clients, but instead I find myself staring at your cubicle and thinking about you. Kevin Lindauer, I would like it very much if you would sit yourself on my big back porch and shake the paint off my walls. I tried to get your attention the other day by the coffee maker, because I wanted to convey to you that the men don't know, but the little girls understand. But then I knocked all the styrofoam cups into the wastepaper basket and spilled the Cremora on the floor! I'm sure you would've helped me clean it up if Walt Peterssen hadn't walked in at that moment and given us a stern look for not being at our desks working on the GenCorp Imaging Systems upgrade report when it was due in less than an hour. Well, let him write up an incident report and forward it to the district manager! Who cares? Kevin Lindauer, you simply must rock me all night long. You must rock me until my back no longer has any bone. I know I must sound rash, but I am absolutely certain that you are destined to be my 60-minute man. When I see you in your tan pleated slacks and wing-tip loafers, there's nothing in this world I want more than to become your big-legged woman. I saw your sister at the supermarket the other day, and I said to her, "Judy, do you think that I'm woman enough to make your brother moan in the moonlight and beg for more?" She told me you really haven't dated much since college. I think it's time that you put a little sugar in my bowl. Kevin Lindauer, I will wait no longer. I've checked my planner, and if you're free after the departmental meeting on Thursday, I'd like you to butter my bread, but good. I need to know soon, though, because if that's not a good time for you, I'll make other plans for then. So, Kevin Lindauer, please tell me: Will you park your big, long Cadillac in my driveway?