I sit at the table in our break room and draw a tree on my work folder.
Then I stare – and when I mean stare, I mean mouth-breathing idle gaze I stare up into the monitor that tells me when my next client arrives.
Sometimes they never arrive. And when they never arrive, I try my luck at a hideously hard Sudoku puzzle.
It taken me a month to do that. I signed my name at the bottom so all the world would know that I accomplished puzzle 102 in the Sudoku puzzle book.
I started a new puzzle shortly after. One that would have no mistakes this time, one that I can rip out of the book and stick on my fridge, or maybe keep in my wallet so I can show friends, or bartenders, people waiting in line with me at the pharmacy.
I get a good start on this puzzle and then guess who walks into the break room to shatter my firing neurons? The annoying woman at work.
“Whats your name again?” I only worked with her 20 times and did a few couples massages with her.
“Melanie.” I smile at her – a real smile because this woman seriously cracks me up. I turn my gaze back to Sudoku. I need all of my brain focus to accomplish a five-star puzzle. I search for the focus. Where are you focus?
Annoying woman at work – “Melaniemelaniemelaniemelanie Melaniemelaniemelaniemelanie Melaniemelaniemelaniemelanie.”
She must have said my name over and over for a minute straight until she says,
“That sounds familiar, saying your name over and over.”
Me – “Like at a racetrack or baseball game?” That’s what it reminded me of.
Annoying woman – “No……something to do with gambling.”
Me – “Huh…I don’t know.”
Annoying woman – “Melaniemelaniemelaniemelanie Melaniemelaniemelaniemelanie.”
Then there was peace for 4 seconds. I squeeze in any drops of focus onto my Sudoku.
Annoying woman – “OH FUCK!”
I look up startled and see her pull out a small empty bottle from her pants pocket. I recognized the bottle from homeopathic medicine.
I don’t believe in homeopathic medicine. All it is is small hard balls of sugar that they tell you to place under your tongue to cure your illness. To me it’s like sucking on a tic tac to combat irritable bowel syndrome. I just don’t get it.
I know all this because I too have been duped into buying a bottle. I’m a bit of a hypochondriac and came across homeopathy one day during a pursuit to find a cure for my anxiety. Fourteen dollars and a week later, I get my ‘meds.’
Anyway, I’m off topic. Back to my story.
“I have a bunch of tiny balls in my pocket! I hate that!”