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Sex at Work

The office is officially the new singles bar. Americans spend 164 more hours at work than we did 20 years ago. One in three of us always eats lunch at our desks, and a third don't use up our vacation days. Much of a working woman's life is spent elbow-to-elbow with the opposite sex, men who see us at our most competent, smart, and creative (while we're seeing them at their least lame as well). So is it any wonder that the daily grind often leads to a different kind of grind altogether?

According to one survey, 47 percent of workers have had an office affair; another found that only 34 percent of them felt it necessary to keep their relationship a secret. And while the threat of sexual harassment remains a clear and present buzz kill — and sleeping your way to the top will often land you on the jump page of The Wall Street Journal — the commingling of lateral associates, Jim-and-Pam style, has become standard business practice. With nothing less than our careers and love lives at stake, we thought it high time to assess the steep risks and heady rewards of love among the cubicles.

The Safest Way to Be Dangerous at Work

On behalf of personnel honchos everywhere, if you can find your action someplace else, please do. The hunting may take more effort, but the kill and cleanup will be so much easier. Can't resist temptation? A few rules on mixing office with orifice:

Rule #1: Choose your partner wisely. If he's above you, then he can't be above you. If he's under you, then he's not under you. If you're on the same level, then give it a go. Although sideways is complicated in so many ways, it's the best way to avoid popping up on HR's radar and becoming another casualty — like former Red Cross president (and subordinate-shtupper) Mark Everson. After six months on the job, he was very publicly axed. Gruesome.

Rule #2: Have the talk early. Right after you've endured those key conversations about protection, sexual history, one pillow or two, no pulp or some pulp, discuss worst-case work scenarios and establish rules for downshifting back to platonic colleagues, if that becomes a necessity — i.e., no tears, no anger, and no loose talk in the break room about how his stuff bends to the right.

Rule #3: Play it cool. No physical contact, no telling glances. First of all, offices tend to have cameras in every corner these days. Secondly, while most people never pick up on the cues we give off, the smart ones do: They can tell when you're pregnant, shifting alliances, or looking for another job. And they can certainly spot the way you sweetly finger his tie, or suddenly snipe with a fury that sounds more like "What the fuck am I doing fucking a married guy?" than "You forgot to put the 11-by-17 in the copier!"

Rule #4: Confide in no one. Not even your closest officemate, who held your hair while you repurposed that unfortunate fourth Appletini at the quarterly sales conference. Because no one can be trusted to hang tight to this secret. And when she does tell all, everyone will assume the plum projects and promotions that come your way have nothing to do with your unparalleled brand-marketing skills and everything to do with those liaisons at the Marriott downtown.

Rule #5: Deny, deny, deny. If there's no e-mail trail and nothing on the cameras, how are they absolutely sure you two have hooked up? They're not going to dust him for prints. Then again, best to keep your resume up-to-date and know that one or both of you may have to move on. Most importantly, do your job really, really well. Most places hate to lose great people, even if they exhibit — all together now — really poor judgment.