I was at work a day or so ago, and desperately trying to get something finished before a meeting. I don’t know if this is normal (seems not much I do is normal) but if I’m stressed and trying to get something done quickly, I’ll start talking to myself. You know, “Okay, so that needs to be like that, and that needs to go there, and – oh balls balls balls, hang on – alright, that’s …. fine, next I need to -” when I was suddenly interrupted by a man standing by my desk.
“That’s nice,” he said, gesturing at a brochure lying on my desk. I glanced up at him.
“It is,” I said, trying to be polite, and then got back on with my work, except minus the chatting to myself, lest he a) think I was weird, or b) thought I was trying to continue the conversation.
“Can I have it?” he asked.
I glanced up at him again, a bit baffled. There are lots of those brochures, all piled up about three desks over from mine.
“Sure,” I told him, turning back to my work.
“It’s a nice picture, isn’t it?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Where is it?”
It continued thusly for a while, and unsurprisingly I didn’t get what I was trying to finish finished before my meeting. Fortunately, it wasn’t a vital part of the meeting, I just wanted to be able to say ‘yes’ when asked if it was done.
About half an hour later the snack cart came round, and stopped in what could be considered a daft place to stop, as it was just on a corner that is quite highly trafficked with people going to and from the printer and leaving the office and generally just walking around. I was being well behaved and didn’t get anything* but I was trying to get past at just that moment, so had to stop to wait for the crowds to disperse. My brochure-admiring friend than charged up and tried to get past, as he appeared to be on an important mobile phone call. I looked at him sympathetically, and tried to say “oh dear, there’s a bit of a jam,” in an attempt to ease the situation a bit.
Instead, my apparently still ticked-off subconscious kicked in, and I said sternly,
“There’s a queue.”
I did not mean to say that. I even said it as though it should have a question mark at the end, as though he was being unreasonably obnoxious and I simply couldn’t fathom why he would behave in such a queue-jumping manner. I had meant to be friendly and empathise with his situation – I knew he wasn’t trying to push in, and yet some part of my brain that wanted to be mean to him just took over.
I saw him yesterday morning in the kitchen, and it was awkward.
*Okay, I bought a Tracker, but they’re practically all nuts, which are good for you and whatnot, so it doesn’t count.
Nuts are very high in fat, you’d be far better off bringing in carrot batons or some frozen grapes to eat if you’re peckish, but don’t want to chub chub out. Dried fruit [even though high in sugars] would be better than a track-er snacker bar. However, your best bet is to just drink a lot of water or a herbal tea rather than eat. Hydrate to keep the brain active for work and boost creativity, but don’t get fat, and high blood pressure & cholesterol, and the added danger of not being able to fit in a plane seat, or a bathing costume.
I was also under the impression that all Britons were taught to form an orderly que from their infancy, at least until primar-k opened it’s doors, & people forgot their manners in exchange for the thrill of a £9 dress made by someone young in years in a building westerns might not like or approve much of, for reasons of the health and the safety. Yet, i digress, let me continue, perhaps this gentleman was trying to get away from you in a hurry? Which is why he attempted to bustle past the calorie laden cart of temptations [A chance, per chance, that he may be a recovering over-eater himself?] and was pretending to be engaged on the cell phone to avoid further conversing with you, as you outlined how his earlier attempts had bombed so. He might have been all tongue tied, using the phone as a shield from further rejections? Furthermore, the kitchen encounter the next day seems almost reminiscent of an embarrassing encounter after an ill advised snog, where one party cannot look the other in the eyeballs for fear of possible rejection…or reenactment. A hearty handshake, whilst blowing raspberries should cause all barriers to come down, and you two can be the best of work friends and make marmalade sandwiches together to celebrate and hand out to the others in the meeting.
Huzzah!
I do like a good marmalade sandwich…