Friday, April 10, 2009

Friday, A Vignette

The Yam* was chatty today, feeling helpful. He had to give advice, express appreciation, ask questions so that he could ignore the answers. The Yam does not respect personal space; he stands in my bubble. I think about stabbing him in his eyebrow, and wonder how his wife can stand to be around him. I expect she drinks, and that she has a lover. Maybe several.

The Chatterer* talked on the phone about her child who will soon be attending a party. There is much concern over what the girl will wear, over selecting the right color of jaunty cowboy hat. The girl is under two. The Chatterer does not know that her daughter will one day come to hate her. Eventually, the girl will come home with a shaved head, a bondage collar, and a girlfriend in flannel. Either that, or she will grow into the worst kind of spoiled princess. A young woman capable only of narcissism and avarice. No matter how this turns out, there will be screaming and recriminations.

The Chatterer is contemplating divorce, although she might not even know this yet. She does not like her husband, and likely never did. One day, in a year or 18 months, she will finally find a "reason" to leave him. I wonder if he knows.

I love my job.

*The V.P.
*His assistant

1 comment:

Left blank said...

I'm pretty sure no court in the land would convict you of strangling a "space invader".

There should be a law to protect us from them and mimes.