A Lesson in Herstory - The Silent Noise
The tv was airing some new dishwashing detergent commercial in the background. She sat at the desk checking her email....junk...junk...junk...automatic bill pay reminder...junk...junk...email from dad...junk...junk...
"Hi, I was wondering if you were busy..." Tony, our boss, popped out of nowhere. "I have some, uh, files here I need you to look at."
"Sure thing," I said, taking the pile out of his hands. They weighed a ton and smelled like rotten old goat cheese.
She turned away from her desk and smiled at him. He smiled back, gave me a small nod, and walked off. She turned to the tv and started flipping the channels.
"Are you done with the computer?" I asked, slamming the files down on the desk.
"Uh, yeah, whatever."
I carried out my tasks like a faithful soldier ant, completing each file one by one. She started watching some daytime soap opera. Ofcourse, she had to comment every other second about "how silly" these shows are, and "who would believe that load of crap" and "god, how stupid do you have to be to watch this shit???" Funny how I was thinking the same thing. I managed to tune her out, like I usually do. I've gotten pretty good at it actually. You just have to concentrate on what you're doing. And even if you're not doing anything, you can just stare out the tiny window on the right wall and start thinking. Like sometimes, I like to watch people go by and give them names I think they might have. There's a lady who brings her two girls in for ice-cream next door every Thursday after their soccer practice (the kids have their jerseys on and mud on their knees)...she wears alot of pastels and has big sun-glasses that cover most of her face. I call her "Laura." Her two daughters look alot like her. I call the older one "Ashley". She's probably around 10 years old, wears braces, always has her long auburn hair up in a pony-tail, and usually gets the double-fudge ice-cream in the vanilla cone. Her sister, "Ness" (short for "Vanessa") is probably around 7 and prefers to wear her her in pig-tails. She likes the strawberry/bubble-gum ice-cream (it's pink, so it has to be one or the other) with lots of colorful sprinkles.
"Oh my god, did I tell you?" She turns around with her eyes sparkling as the soap takes a commercial break. She has that "wait-till-you-hear-this" look on her face, I've seen it 100 times.
"Tell me what?" I ask, not really caring.
"I was returning some photocopies back to Tony this morning, and I heard him talking on the phone with..." I watched as her lips moved with enthusiasm. She had a small mark near the corner of her mouth. It fascinated me for some reason, and I always resisted the urge to reach out and touch it. It looked like it might have been a scar or birth mark, but I couldn't tell unless I was really close to her...
"...and he's going to get her FIRED!!! Just because of that little bitch who couldn't keep her mouth shut!"
"Wow," I replied, focusing back to the computer screen. "I can't believe it."
"I swear, I told Diane about it over lunch and she couldn't believe it either." She smiled as she said that. She looked so pleased with herself. I looked at the time...two more hours to go. The goat cheese smell from the files was really starting to get to me.
"I'm going to take a short break," I said, backing away from the desk. "Would you mind covering for me?"
"Um, sure...I don't think I can be near those files, though, they smell kinda funny and they'll make me nauseous..."
"Nauseated."
"What?"
"They'll make you nauseated."
"Oh, yeah, whatever."
I stepped outside and sat on the bench. It sound of mild traffic was surprisingly soothing. The sky was fairly dark and windy, there was some hurricane approaching from the west, but no one seemed to be paying much attention to it. I lit my cig and watched as "Mrs.Magoo," an old lady who was always screaming about "the damn flies in this neighborhood!" shuffled along to buy some groceries from the corner store. She always bought bags and bags of potato chips and corn syrup. I saw her drop her shopping bags once, and all these bags of potato chips and plastic corn syrup bottles scattered on the ground. "Carson Stonywall" ran out to help her, he's the retired veteran who owns the "Sell Your Nick-Knacks Here" store across the street from us. He looks like a sweet man, but he comes out swearing on the top of his lungs at "Cody" and "Teal," two teenage boys who steal almost every other 2 weeks from his store. I don't know how they manage to get back in unnoticed every time.
I went back inside after dusting the chalk off my pants, courtesy of some dumb kid who had been sitting on the bench before. She was on the phone now, giggling to someone about some friend's screwed up boob job. The tv was still on, a rather muscular man was talking about easy weight-loss...
"Oh my god, I hope she doesn't breast-feed,"...
...the fax machine was whirring...
"With this workout, you're going to be the envy of all your friends"...
The tv news bulletin flashed a hurricane warning on the screen...
"And I wonder what Alessandro said when she came home with those big two..."
"This just in: the mayor has annouced a strong advisory against...*static*...please be careful...*more static*..."
...the phone in Tony's office was ringing...
"Oh please, the one Dr. Patel did on Sonya was so much better..."
The room got very dark as the windows rattled hard...
"Hello, Mansi, are you there? I can't hear you..."
The lights went out, the tv went off, and the lines were torn loose from the howling winds.
"Hi, I was wondering if you were busy..." Tony, our boss, popped out of nowhere. "I have some, uh, files here I need you to look at."
"Sure thing," I said, taking the pile out of his hands. They weighed a ton and smelled like rotten old goat cheese.
She turned away from her desk and smiled at him. He smiled back, gave me a small nod, and walked off. She turned to the tv and started flipping the channels.
"Are you done with the computer?" I asked, slamming the files down on the desk.
"Uh, yeah, whatever."
I carried out my tasks like a faithful soldier ant, completing each file one by one. She started watching some daytime soap opera. Ofcourse, she had to comment every other second about "how silly" these shows are, and "who would believe that load of crap" and "god, how stupid do you have to be to watch this shit???" Funny how I was thinking the same thing. I managed to tune her out, like I usually do. I've gotten pretty good at it actually. You just have to concentrate on what you're doing. And even if you're not doing anything, you can just stare out the tiny window on the right wall and start thinking. Like sometimes, I like to watch people go by and give them names I think they might have. There's a lady who brings her two girls in for ice-cream next door every Thursday after their soccer practice (the kids have their jerseys on and mud on their knees)...she wears alot of pastels and has big sun-glasses that cover most of her face. I call her "Laura." Her two daughters look alot like her. I call the older one "Ashley". She's probably around 10 years old, wears braces, always has her long auburn hair up in a pony-tail, and usually gets the double-fudge ice-cream in the vanilla cone. Her sister, "Ness" (short for "Vanessa") is probably around 7 and prefers to wear her her in pig-tails. She likes the strawberry/bubble-gum ice-cream (it's pink, so it has to be one or the other) with lots of colorful sprinkles.
"Oh my god, did I tell you?" She turns around with her eyes sparkling as the soap takes a commercial break. She has that "wait-till-you-hear-this" look on her face, I've seen it 100 times.
"Tell me what?" I ask, not really caring.
"I was returning some photocopies back to Tony this morning, and I heard him talking on the phone with..." I watched as her lips moved with enthusiasm. She had a small mark near the corner of her mouth. It fascinated me for some reason, and I always resisted the urge to reach out and touch it. It looked like it might have been a scar or birth mark, but I couldn't tell unless I was really close to her...
"...and he's going to get her FIRED!!! Just because of that little bitch who couldn't keep her mouth shut!"
"Wow," I replied, focusing back to the computer screen. "I can't believe it."
"I swear, I told Diane about it over lunch and she couldn't believe it either." She smiled as she said that. She looked so pleased with herself. I looked at the time...two more hours to go. The goat cheese smell from the files was really starting to get to me.
"I'm going to take a short break," I said, backing away from the desk. "Would you mind covering for me?"
"Um, sure...I don't think I can be near those files, though, they smell kinda funny and they'll make me nauseous..."
"Nauseated."
"What?"
"They'll make you nauseated."
"Oh, yeah, whatever."
I stepped outside and sat on the bench. It sound of mild traffic was surprisingly soothing. The sky was fairly dark and windy, there was some hurricane approaching from the west, but no one seemed to be paying much attention to it. I lit my cig and watched as "Mrs.Magoo," an old lady who was always screaming about "the damn flies in this neighborhood!" shuffled along to buy some groceries from the corner store. She always bought bags and bags of potato chips and corn syrup. I saw her drop her shopping bags once, and all these bags of potato chips and plastic corn syrup bottles scattered on the ground. "Carson Stonywall" ran out to help her, he's the retired veteran who owns the "Sell Your Nick-Knacks Here" store across the street from us. He looks like a sweet man, but he comes out swearing on the top of his lungs at "Cody" and "Teal," two teenage boys who steal almost every other 2 weeks from his store. I don't know how they manage to get back in unnoticed every time.
I went back inside after dusting the chalk off my pants, courtesy of some dumb kid who had been sitting on the bench before. She was on the phone now, giggling to someone about some friend's screwed up boob job. The tv was still on, a rather muscular man was talking about easy weight-loss...
"Oh my god, I hope she doesn't breast-feed,"...
...the fax machine was whirring...
"With this workout, you're going to be the envy of all your friends"...
The tv news bulletin flashed a hurricane warning on the screen...
"And I wonder what Alessandro said when she came home with those big two..."
"This just in: the mayor has annouced a strong advisory against...*static*...please be careful...*more static*..."
...the phone in Tony's office was ringing...
"Oh please, the one Dr. Patel did on Sonya was so much better..."
The room got very dark as the windows rattled hard...
"Hello, Mansi, are you there? I can't hear you..."
The lights went out, the tv went off, and the lines were torn loose from the howling winds.
posted by sing-song @ 11:51 PM
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