Character Introduction

Sherri

The receptionist.  A strange position for a department that has no other contact with customers directly, she answers phones and possibly greets visitors.  Sherri is a short woman with long, poofy, gray hair and some children who are too old to be living at home.  If she misses a day of work, Barbara fills in the role.  I've already seen two new receptionists in the time I've been here.  There's friction. 

La sal de la tierra

The guys who came to clean windows in the office, not the outside windows, but the windows that separate us from our superiors, they have interesting conversation.  They were talking about how strange it would be to see the people they work with in a suit.  Apparently, they think the only places you should wear a suit are funerals.  One of them said, “Like, what if Hector fell off the roof tomorrow and we all had to go to his funeral.  Do you think Dave would wear a suit?  I just can’t picture it.”

The other one chimed in, “No, but Hector wouldn’t have a funeral.”

“That’s true.  He doesn’t exist.  What do they do with illegal Mexicans?”

“I don’t know, man.”

“They prolly just throw ‘em in the river.”

This is a quiet office.

A regular June Cleaver

Over the phone, Barbara is telling Jennifer to be a better mother.  That seems like appropriate work conversation. 

This is what Jennifer said, “How am I supposed to make my kids sleep.  I put them in their rooms so how am I supposed to know if they’re sleeping or not?”  What a mother.  And yes, she talks loudly enough for me to hear her. 

She says CPS “Won’t find nothin’” on her.  She’s a “good” mother and always there for her kids.  She went out to eat (drink was implied) last night and left the kids alone. 

“My friends are the only ones who keep me going?” Jennifer said.  What about her children?

Character Introduction

Jennifer

 

It's not unusual to know things about coworkers' families.  For example, the name of her oldest child (Jennifer), how old she is (30 something), where she lives (a block from Barbara), how many children she has (four; 11 (Kaylee), 8 (Daniel), 4 (Felipe), and 2 (Sebastian)).  
There are some things, however, that I was surprised to find out.  For instance, the father of Jennifer's children has been deported because he was here illegally.  Or that these children are often left to fend for themselves when Jennifer goes out.  It seems, or rather seemed, that these were things that should be kept to one's self.  Luckily for me, this isn't always the case. 

Not here, not like this

 Terry got a call from some sort of collector.  I didn’t know what kind because I didn’t ask.  But he was very short with her and told her to stop harassing him at work.  The call ended quickly.  Apparently, this woman had previously been rude to his wife.  And I don’t know his wife, but from what I know of her, I am pretty sure the rudeness went both ways.   

A couple days later, he was on the phone to the newspaper to cancel their subscription because they are being overcharged.   He got snippy like he does so I told him so.  For somebody who worked in a call center, he was surprisingly rude. 

Then

His wife emails him and tells him to cancel his cancellation.  So now he has to call back the same person and reopen his subscription.  Immediate karmic revenge.    

 

He chew chew chooses obliviousness

 Terry eats lunch with earbuds in.  He can’t hear the disgusting noises his mouth makes as he chews with it hanging open.  He laughs and breathes heavily without using his nose.  It’s a wonder he doesn’t end up with his lunch all over his shirt.  You would think hearing your chewing in your head would make you do it more quietly, but it seems to make him oblivious to his own symphony of bad manners.  

You should shouldn’t hear him eat cereal. 

A Vue to be killed

Seconds after sitting down, Barbara started into it.  “Well, I made a big purchase this weekend.”  Then in a hushed voice, “I bought me a another vehicle.”

I’ve been tuning her out more recently.  She also hasn’t been at her desk much.  I’m glad though.  It’s the only way I can get any work done.  With being interrupted, intentionally or unintentionally, by Terry, if I were eavesdropping on her issues, I’d never get anything done.  Lucky for me, he doesn’t seem to be here this morning. 

 I got Barbara’s story, loud and clear.  As did anybody else working on my floor.  “I’m not sure yet if we really shoulda done it.  We just had to take the Malibu to the shop because the check engine light came on after we put some gas in it.  They said, for the light, the transmission pan that was leakin’, the brakes, and we didn’t even ask them to look at the brakes, near thousand dollars to fix all that.  We just asked them to fix the light.  And I’m not really sure, how do they know it wasn’t some freak thing with the light from the gas we put in?”  So we just pay for the light and go walk around the lot.  Then we find this little Saturn SUV thing.  It’s called a Vue.  It’s pretty cute.  There goes Reggie’s Social Security,” she said jokingly, but she wasn’t joking.  “But [Reggie] said, ‘You’ve lived without it before,’ and I was like I know.  But we’re gonna have to stop eatin out so much.  I’m still not convinced it was a good idea.”

“How much did you pay for it?” her desk partner asked, as if the gods themselves willed her to do so for my benefit.  And I’m really not sure what to make of her answer.  She said, “They were askin’ seventeen, but they dropped it to thirteen-somethin’.  But it ended up, with everything being like twenty-four.” What?  Seriously?  How does that work?  Eleven grand in extra fees and stuff?  I bet these two are a negotiator’s dream.  I bet there are dozens layers of undercoating on that car.  She said she got some extra insurance on it, which I think she meant was an extended warrantee.  But still, that’s a lot of money for a couple years of worry free* maintenance.  Regardless, $24,000 for a used SUV made by a company she didn’t even know was defunct.  This will not end well.