Mmmm, minimalism

Can we not enjoy silence?  Can we not exchange a greeting and have that be the end of it.  Why are you always looking for some sort of conversation starter? 

“How’s that weather treating you?”  When the temperature drops outside, it makes me cold.  When it is higher, I am warmer.  You?

“You ready for the end of the year?”  No, I’m not.  I was thinking of putting it off for a couple weeks. 

I will say hello.   You will say hello.  If there is something about which we should speak, it will be spoken, if not, take your greeting and like it.  We have acknowledged each other.  End communication.  

Willful ignorance

Barbara knows she speaks incorrectly.  In a phone conversation, in response to something on the other end of a telephone, she said, “It don’t matter.” She paused for the other person to speak and then, in a sigh, “Dooooesn’t maaatterrr.” So she knows she is ignorant.  Isn’t that mind blowing? 

I'd like to thank all the little people

John has accepted a new position elsewhere on my floor.  The “I won’t be far” meter has started.  It is at two.  He has said it twice and it’s not even twenty after eight.  I’m going to start hearing him complain and moan and follow it up with, “But I don’t have to worry about it anymore.” Without the least bit of awareness that he is basically saying, “I am better than you now.  I don’t have to deal with these little problems anymore.” 

A woman's work

It worries me that Barbara is the brains of that operation.  Reggie always has her call to take care of his business.  And by business I mean consulting with lawyers and the unemployment office and therapists and doctors.  If it weren’t for her, I don’t know where he’d be.  Probably in the pocket and on the pedestal of some other sucker of a woman. 

Perspective

They were talking about a terrible car wreck that happened this morning.  Noreen said her husband’s boss said it happened behind her.  Noreen said she was lucky she didn’t get stuck behind the wreck.  Yeah, that would have sucked.

Put it in your pocket

So, the other day, the day before Thanksgiving, Margaret came around about 3:00 letting people know they could go home early.  It had turned into a pretty slow day so it was a nice gesture.  Noreen couldn’t leave.  She had to wait for her husband to get off since they ride together.  Then she told us that Sherry was stuck up front covering the phones, so she was going to have the chance to leave early today.  I agree.  Good move.  Very considerate.

John was also given the opportunity to leave early the other day.  But since he and Jackie ride together, he somehow also gets to leave early today.  Sherry’s inability to take advantage of the early release offer warrants her leaving early today.  John, however, wasn’t unable to take advantage of it.  He could have left early.  He chose not to.  So why does he get to reschedule that offer? 

Okay, okay, maybe I’m just bitter because I want to go home early today and still get paid, but I think I have a good point.  And for those who aren’t convinced that I should be remotely upset about this, a few minutes ago, he stood up from his chair and gave a stretch with a long sigh.  He turned to me and said, “Looks like you’re gonna be stuck here ‘til 4:30 today, huh?” Yep, looks that way.  What the fuck kind of comment is that?  Just rubbing in the fact that he took advantage of a nice offer by putting it in his pocket and saving it for another day.  It’s what he is so fond of referring to as, “Rude.” Listen, fucker, I know you get to leave early today.  I tune into every conversation on levels you can’t even imagine.  C’mon, baby tomato, ketchup. 

The Update:

John left at 3:00 on the dot.  En punto.  He told me that if I needed anything up until 4:00 to call him at Jackie’s extension as that would be where he is spending this hour.  The question I have to ask at this point is, “How is spending an hour sitting in Jackie’s cubicle on a Friday any different than it would have been on Wednesday.  Oh well, I’m ducking out at 4:00.  I win.   

Just because you're wrong doesn't mean you're lying

Scale is an interesting concept.  One of my earliest memories is of petting a cow-sized dog that ran its endlessly wide tongue up the left side of my face.  His name was Bosco.  He was a black lab.  I know; Labradors are not cow-sized.  It took me a long time to realize that.  As I got older I retold the story of this animal.  Other kids would be talking about their big dogs or their uncle’s big dog, or a dog they saw on television.  I’d step into the conversation with the assurance of an oil-boom prospector. 

Thinking of it like that makes me laugh.  I picture stepping into the middle of a heated discussion quelling all other conversation.  I picture myself as a four year old in a loose-fitting linen suit.  I stretch out my suspenders with my thumbs and clear my throat as I rock heel-toe gathering the attention of interested parties.  I imagine myself with a drawl, speaking slowly and deliberately.  “Now, we’ve all been hearing talk about gargantuan canines.  Many of you claim to have seen – or even touched – some monstrous animal calling itself a dog.  The tale I have to share, pardon the pun of course, will cast its shadow over all other accounts. 

“I was at eye level with the chest of the magnificent beast.  Its teeth as long as my fingers and its tail longer than I am tall.  I approached the creature cautiously, as any man would do, and was astounded when he seemed as docile as a lone cow in a verdant pasture.  His gaze caught mine and for an instant I was terrified.  He turned his massive head toward me and parted his lips.  I started to sweat.  Images of my long, fruitful life passed before my eyes.  Just as I prepared myself to feel his teeth pulling my flesh from the bone (this is the part when all the townsfolk, hanging on my every word, lean closer and stop breathing for as long as it takes this next detail to emerge), I felt the warm, wet roughness of his tongue coating me from chin to cowlick.”

“How did you ever get over that?  I reckon I’d’a just fainted!” one woman would say.

“Based on the detail, there is no way that account is skewed,” the town doctor would agree.

Everybody would applaud my story and use it to trump others should the topic ever reemerge.  I’d be the talk of the town.  But in reality, I was just an ignorant little kid that had no concept of how big things actually are.  It turns out, as you get older, things that used to look huge turn into manageable sights.  Dogs are dog-sized.  Cows are cow-sized.  But those memories still feel just as big. 

Stolen Conversations II

 Reggieeeeee.  No you don’t put bleach on colored clothes. 

[pause as he explains something] 

Well maybe it just depends on the material; I bet that’s what it is. 

[pause] 

Well yeah, with lighter colored stuff. 

[pause] 

Well, as long as it wasn’t none of my work clothes. 

One Sided Phone Conversation II

I know it is.

He don’t get two years backpay.

What?  Why?  Uh huh.

Well, she can’t go on Thursday- miss three days of school that’s all there is to it.

See, it’s hard for her.  It’s hard for her to get caught up when she’s been gone.  It’s hard to get caught up in high school.

Mmhmm.  Yeah. It’d been better if it coulda been in the summertime.

Yeah.  Yeah.  Yup.  Yeeuup.  What’s the sleeping arrangements?  Where’s she gonna stay?

Is that where your daughters are stayin?

Mmhmm. I thought Marsha wanted to stay with Natalie.

Uhhuh.

Where they catch the airplane at?

I just hate her missin’ school.  She’s having a hard…

You don’t understand how much homework she has that she gets. Even when she’s not doin’ anything she still don’t wanna do her work. Mmhmm.   

Okay, I’ll call, let’s see here, I think I got your mom’s number.  I’ll call you Monday.  Mmkay.  Mmkay.  So who’s gonna bring her back once it’s Monday?  Mmhmm.  Mmhmm. 

Where d’they live? In Omaha?  Oh, okay.

Okay, well I’ll talk to Marsha and call you on Monday.  Mmhmm.  Yeah. 

[Chuckles].  Mhmm.  [Chuckles]. 

So where’s the wedding gonna be?  That where the party’s gonna be too?  Mhmm.

I just don’t want her to feel left out.  There’s all you guys drinkin’ and then there’s Marsha. 

Yeah.  Uhhuh.  Yeah.

Well that’s good. 

They said he prolly won’t find out for 90 days.  Or less.  They wanted to make me the payee over him.  Because they don’t like to give social security to people who drink. 

Naw naw, his truck’s broke down.  So his mom and step-dad will be pickin’ him up to come get Marsha. 

And another thing, I go, I go, umm, I go you guys are drinkers too and she’s gonna be around that.  He just said she’ll be with Natalie cuz she don’t drink.  She might be able to come back on Saturday with Melissa.  Then if not Saturday it’ll be Sunday and if not Sunday, Monday. 

Stolen Conversations

Sometimes I get snippets of conversations.  Out of context they are even more ridiculous than they were when I documented them.

Barbara: I called your counselor about that one class you didn’t know if you wanted to take.  What was it? – Language arts?

Pause while her youngest daughter talks on the other end.

Barbara: Don’t worry, you’ll do good.

[with reassurance like that, how could she not be?]

Barbara about her youngest daughter: Everyday she gives me a headache.  She’s such a brat.  I just hope I live long enough to see her have a family and kids and no money.  That’s all I ask.

[nothing could make a mother happier]

Margaret leaving early:  I’m out for the day, I have a visitation to go to.

Peon: Whose?

Margaret: Janet Doersky.  It starts at 6:00 but I want to get there before they start the rosary because I’m not a good catholic.

[I'd say she's got the hang of it]

John: “Our dog fell off the bed last night.”

Noreen: “Is that the end of the story or is there more to it?”

John: “No, that’s about it.  It was just funny.”

Noreen: “My son’s cat got run over this weekend.”

Matt: “Jesus Christ.”

 
 
 

 

It's mostly in my head

Sometimes I picture exploding.  Literally and figuratively.  Hearing John say something on the phone to his sister / wife / mother, I just want to throw things at him.  I never would because I know I’m just neurotic and can’t stand minor imperfections in other people.  It’s not always their fault.  But I’ll picture it.  The first thing within reach and usually already in my hand is my mouse.  I feel better when I fantasize about chucking it at him because I know its cord won’t reach that far.  I’d let go and it would fly toward him.  It’s close enough where it would definitely scare him.  But then the cord would pull taught and the mouse would fall, swinging under his desk and coming to a stop before he picked it up and handed it back to me after hanging up the phone.  

I think it’s my turn for a vacation. 

Does 5:00 still count if it's A.M.?

Sometimes these people seem so oblivious or carefree that I think they’ve been drinking.  How else can you explain the loose tongues and blathering?

The Return

John’s back.  The first thing he said was Hola.  He gets back from nearly two weeks of vacation for his wedding and honeymoon and the first thing he does is unintentionally brag about being in Mexico.  I haven’t looked at him yet because I don’t want to be jealous of his early winter tan.  After he said that, I chuckled.  Not exactly with him either.  More at him.  I also did it without looking at him.  This is going to be a long day.  I wasn’t looking forward to it in the first place. 

Rats.  Turns out everything went perfectly.