Invasion of the Second-Hand Shirts

For six years you came into work every day and said hello to the cute little readhead at the receptionist desk, but she never even noticed you.  You ached for the slightest recognition from her, meeting her eyes, the sound of her voice.  

Your dreams were filled with images of dancing with her, kissing her, canoodling her.  But alas, six years have fled like an instant, and you've never gotten the nerve up to ask her out.

Then before you knew it was your last day at work.  Everyone said how much they would miss you, and your buddies took you to your favorite watering hole for drinks after.  Even the redhead came to the bar with some of her friends.  You didn't even realize she knew who you were.

Everything was making for a perfect evening - the liquour was flowing, the people were dancing, and you had your dream job all lined up for the next week.

Little did you suspect that the next day you would be standing in a mysterious tree with no inkling how you got there, because that's completely unrelated to the storyline established above.

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