Sir Talk-a-Lot Update:
Sitting at my desk 6:15am. First one in the office. Grab a tissue to blow my nose. No one’s around, so I can get my Louie Armstrong on. So I sound off, in the key of C# minor, with one loud trumpeting toot.
As I inhale for an encore, I hear the thud of a door closing. But it’s too late. I’m already set for another blast. I can’t hold! Gotta let it go…”BWOOOOO”!
DANGIT! I know he heard that. He knows I’m here. I can’t escape now. But is he going to come over…I ponder? I’m hoping I’m wrong. Anticipation is like a bottle of Heinz ketchup. Wait for it…Wait for it…and BAM! “Heath?”
And heeeeere we go (Dana Dane-style).
He walks up to Forrest, the transplanted plant he placed outside my cubical. We chat about that plant. He lost some more leaves over the weekend. I can neither confirm nor deny any involvement in the lose of those leaves. He mentioned the plant on his side of the office is doing just find. I tried to suggest he take Forrest over there but he switched gears on me so fast I couldn’t get a word in.
The fire. There was a fire in our building Friday and the whole bldg. was closed. I teleworked so I had to work all day. He was sitting outside the bldg. for a hr. before he got the word that he could go home. So he wanted some fire intel. From me?! I’ve got nothing.
Then he proceeds to tell me about his weekend visit to our former boss’s house, who retired 5 yrs. ago. He lives in the DMV half the year and in Thailand the other half. Thinking about the movie Hangover 2, I asked if he lives in Bangkok.
Why did I ask that?
He scans my desk for a pen and paper. He grabs a pen…I hand him one of those yellow sticky post-it notes. He kneels down on one knee beside my chair…all in my personal space. I recline back. Using my desk he proceeds to draw a map of Southeast Asia: Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam, Myramar, The Indian Ocean, and Malaysia. On a freakin’ post-it note! Then draws a tiny little circle in the middle of the post-it note and says, “He lives right here.” ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME!
Then he proceeds to give me an economic lesson about the bustling Thai economy…while still on one knee beside my chair. I’m like, “Dude! Get thee gone!” He finally pushes back and takes a seat in the chair. Normally I hate when he takes a seat in my cube but this time it was a welcomed maneuver.
He sits, as most men do, with his legs agape, waxing long about our former boss’s exploits in Thailand. Switching from story to story about him on the golf course, at the beach, in the pool hall, and a fierce competition against some Italians when he gets back to Thailand in the rousing competitive sport of bocce ball.
I was fine…until I looked down at the floor. WHAT?!?!? Oh no he doesn’t. I had to double check…so I look down at the floor again. DAGIT!!! This mother father is sitting at my desk, legs agape, with his zipper open! Code Red! I don’t know what to do. If I tell him to close his fly, I compromise myself. If I don’t, I’m might accidently catch a glimpse of something I shouldn’t. I’m in a kerfuffle.
So I affix all my glazes, glances, and glares northward…until such a time as I am reprieved. And that time came when he stood up and left. But then he came back and sat down again – sharing the marital spats between our former boss from Maine and his Thai wife of 40 years.
I didn’t check to see if he closed the door on that trap. Sticking with my northward exposure I waited for another reprieve to arrive. And it did. He got up and left.
And came back again…and left…and came back and sat down one more time before he left for good when my phone rang at 7:09am…some 54 mins later. It was my wife. She just called to say hi. But I wouldn’t let her get off the phone because I didn’t hear his footstep leaving. For, if he heard me hang up the phone, he probably would have come back.
We talked for a minute or two. The coast was clear. Now I was free to start the rest of my day. That brings me back to this plant, which was the impetus for him to come over in the first place. I have resolved…Lil Forrest must go!