Left Unspoken

Suzanne was never a big fan of parties, much preferring the peace of an empty room. Being alone was always easier than trying to follow multiple conversations in loud places filled with food and drink. Being alone meant that she didn’t need to think of what to say next, or navigate complex social queues. Working for the sales team of a Chicago-based manufacturer of industrial generators as a mail room clerk was supposed to be a temporary job, but after four years and multiple pay increases, she lacked the motivation to find her dream job. If she was honest with herself she wasn’t even sure what her dream job would be. She had become complacent even though she wasn’t entirely content. Her leadership position in the mail room was low-stress, didn’t involve much socializing, and was very predictable.

She dreaded the company holiday party, which was not expressly mandatory but everyone always came. She knew that if she was the only one who didn’t show, people might wonder and she desperately didn’t want that. Her goal was to be nearly invisible, just another cog in the machine, dependable but not very interesting. This would save her from agonizing about the right things to say, which had always been very hard for her. Tonight was the big party and she sat with sweaty palms on the 146 bus heading toward the planetarium. The bus was passing the Eternal Flame of Hope, but Suzanne was anything but hopeful about the social overload she was about to be swimming in. The holiday party was huge and sales teams from all over the Midwest Region were going to be there, people she had never met, the worst kind of social torture.

As the bus rounded the corner onto Solidarity Drive, all Suzanne wished for was five more minutes of solitude. There was no traffic this time of night, and if it were summer she may have chosen to walk but Chicago in December was just too unpleasant after dark and this party was the sort of thing you dressed up for anyway. Walking through the door with winter boots would just complicate life, meaning she would have to change into something nicer and pay to check more than just her coat. The bus was the most logical means of transportation to such an affair and it was warm enough. She disembarked and walked up steps and made her way to the party, she had agonized about arriving early, late, or on time and had been mostly paralyzed with indecision. Checking her watch it turned out she was exactly on time.

The rounded softly lit room that was the Welcome Gallery twisted at her menacingly, filled with a sea of faces. She made her way directly to the bar and grabbed a glass of red wine so she would have something in her hands, then proceeded to an empty corner to stand awkwardly, hoping no one would notice her.

“Suzanne?” a voice said

“Suzanne McDonald…” the voice insisted “from the mail room down on B-1 right?”

Suzanne whirled, searching for the voice she didn’t recognize that had recognized her. A face came into view illuminated by the red lighting of the walls, making her red hair look like fire. A beautiful face that made Suzanne want to melt or perhaps float up into that mess of fiery light and blink out of existence.

“It’s Judy, from upstairs, we met once in the break room for Mary’s birthday remember?” Judy said.

“Oh.. uh right…” Suzanne responded, “It’s been a while since then..”

“Too long! How have you been?”

Suzanne’s mind was spinning, what was the right thing to say here? Whatever the right thing was it eluded her. She felt nervous and overwhelmed at the moment and overall she guessed there was nothing, in particular, to complain about but she wondered if that was enough to say in response.

“I have been OK…” Suzanne mumbled remembering it was a customary response to ask how the other person had been in return, she blushed “How…. how about you?”

“Oh, you know me! Never better! Sales are way up and I am looking forward to a big fat bonus check! I suppose you don’t get bonuses down in the mail room do you?”

“No, we don’t”

“Well, why not join the sales team, you would be great at it, it is such an easy job anyone could do it! People need generators and we sort of have the market cornered!” Judy grinned and took a sip of her martini.

Suzanne tried to imagine working in sales, she could barely figure out what to say when someone asked how she was doing but Suzanne thought it would be a good idea to take a job where what she said was everything. It was a laughable proposal.

“Oh… n-no way… I couldn’t do that, I am too shy, I am… not good at talking to people.”

“Oh, sure you are! You told that hilarious story about… what was it?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Judy’s face scrunched up “Hmmm… maybe that wasn’t you. Oh! I see Mary! Gotta run, great talking to you!”

At this point, Suzanne was sweating. She took a giant gulp of her red wine, forgetting for a moment it wasn’t water and choking a little. She was glad that was over. She vowed to spend the rest of the night invisible if at all possible. The party would wind down in an hour or two and she would have a chance to escape then, leaving this stress out of her mind for another year.

Thankfully, the rest of the evening went as she had planned with the exception of a man from the marketing department stepping on her accidentally, then apologizing as he had not seen her in the dark. She spent most of the night watching other people interact. They seemed to do this with such ease, they were having fun and even laughing. She wondered how it was that they could so effortlessly select the right word or body language to fit different situations. How did the woman from accounting know that it was OK to laugh at her coworker’s joke? How did the receptionist know it was OK to angrily walk away from the intoxicated person from shipping when they had tried to give her a big hug? It all seemed to be some elaborate dance to which she didn’t know the steps.

When it was finally time to leave Suzanne felt relieved but couldn’t shake the disappointing notion that she had missed something. This feeling came up often, as though whatever had just happened would have been less distressing if she only knew this secret code everyone else knew. If she knew the code she too could laugh at someone’s jokes and feel the same way that accounting woman had. Perhaps also people would not step on her in the dark.

On the bus ride home she tried not to dwell on this feeling since it made her upset the more she realized different places during the night where she now knew what the right response should have been and how responding instead of hiding could have been fun. She even remembered she had told a story about a squirrel she had seen at Millennium Park taking peanuts from an old man in a powder blue suit at Mary’s birthday party but had not thought of the story as being funny.

She felt she really ought to try and figure this out. She simply wasn’t like other people but couldn’t discern why. But what could she do about this tonight? Nothing she thought hopelessly. Nothing to be done, not tonight. Tonight she would go home, climb into bed, and hope that she cracked the code to human interaction in her sleep.