The Show Must Go On

I pretended like I didn’t see Janine making her way towards my desk. I could see her peacock blue pantsuit approaching in my peripheral vision, the swish of polyester coming at me like the world’s most nosy freight train as she wove between desks. She came to a halt next to me with a huff and a cloud of heavy floral perfume. I kept my eyes on the email I had now read three times without absorbing a word. I hoped if I ignored her long enough she would wander away to bother someone else. I could hear the buzz of the fluorescent lights above me as the entire office seemed to hold its breath and focus attention on what was happening at my desk.

She cleared her throat and I knew she would have her arms crossed across her chest without even looking. Not going to be easily deterred, apparently. I pulled my eyes away from my screen slowly as if they were glued there by hot tar. I raised my eyebrows slightly, waiting; my fingers drummed silently against my coffee mug. I took a drink. All I could taste was the chemical flavor of the perfume. I sat it back down, nudging it to the center of my coaster. “What can I do for you?”

She snorted. Her eyes fluttered, lashes sticking together from her clumpy mascara. “Don’t you think you are being a little dramatic?” she asked loudly enough that I was sure the CEO three floors above me could hear the question. 

I looked at my desk. It wasn’t neat, but there was nothing personal there, nothing I didn’t need for work. I glanced down at my clothing, khakis and a blue, collared shirt. I could see nothing that Janine might consider to be dramatic, other than a small stain where my coffee had dripped. When did that happen? I caught Arthur’s eye, his desk catty corner from mine. He shrugged and shook his head, expression as confused as mine undoubtedly was. His eyes dropped back to his computer screen, but I could tell he was more focused on listening to Janine than anything he might be working on.

“I guess I don’t know what we are talking about, Jan.” We had worked in the same department for 7 years now and I knew good and well that she hated the nickname.

“I saw you in the parking garage,” she said, pointing one shiny, red claw inches from my nose.

I brushed her hand aside and leaned back in my chair. “I’ve parked there everyday since I was hired, so that’s hardly a surprise.”

She huffed again. Recrossed her arms as she turned away. “Just disrespectful,” she muttered, taking a few steps away. She pivoted back toward me, finger again brandished. “And you know it, too.”

I raised an eyebrow, but made no response. 

She turned away again, finally walking away. Arthur leaned back in his chair, as if by doing so he could blend into the cubicle wall and she might not see him.

He waited to move until she stopped at Lisa’s desk on the opposite side of the room. Lisa would have been the office busybody by any other standard, but for Janine. They put their heads together, casting dark looks in my direction.

“Man, what did you do?” he asked, his face equal parts curiosity and revulsion.

I reached for my mug and took a swallow of my cooling coffee. “Same thing I do every morning. My usual morning ritual. No idea why it has her bent all out of shape.”

This wasn’t exactly true. I had an idea I knew what her problem was, but I didn’t feel like I needed to justify myself to the entire office. Sometimes there are just things you have to do, things that get you through the day.

He nodded, but still looked like he didn’t completely understand. That was okay.

The next morning, I pulled into my parking spot as usual and shut off the engine. It was Wednesday, which always reminded me of a particular George Carlin bit. Instead of TGIFridays, he said, they needed a place called HSIOW: Holy Shit, it’s Only Wednesday. I leaned my head back against my seat, the ghost of a smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. He was right about that. I hadn’t even made it in the door yet and it already felt like a long day.

I reached for my phone with one hand and turned the volume knob on my car stereo with the other. I opened my music app, pulling up a particular playlist. I checked that the phone was connected to stream to my stereo and I pressed play.

The synthesized strings of the opening chords poured from my speakers and I let my eyes fall closed. I mouthed the lyrics, “Abandoned places, what are we living for?”

I let the song play through to the last note before sighing and pulling my key from the ignition. As I opened my eyes, I could see Janine hurrying towards the elevator, shaking her head. I picked up my lunch bag from the seat beside me and got out of the car, locking the doors before sliding the keys into my pocket.

I took a place beside her as I reached the elevator. Her lips pursed and her nose wrinkled like she smelled something nasty. I reached past her to press the call button. She didn’t say anything.

As we stood and watched the numbers descend towards us, I glanced at her from the corner of my eye. “It’s a reminder,” I said.

She was startled. “What?”

“The song. I’m not trying to be dramatic or disrespectful, not in the way you mean. It’s a reminder that if Freddy Mercury could go in there and do his job so perfectly while he was dying, then I am perfectly capable of getting through another day of my soul-sucking job with awful people like you.”

Her mouth opened and closed silently a few times. There was a ding as the elevator opened. I stepped inside. Janine made no move to follow. I gave her my most winning smile and let the doors slide closed in her face.