Faces or Vases

When you work at the end of a bus line, and work in tourism, you get to deal with every kind of person.  Every single kind of person.

There’s a guy out front that makes me really uncomfortable.  He is a jerk.   But my co-worker has a way of joking with him that completely defuses his jerkiness.  One of these hard-living, bus riding, chewed up and spat out, leathery, limited people.  Limited and pissed. 

You can tell that he doesn’t think he’s been given a fair shake and so he’s going to just rile and and frustrate and demand every small courtesy he can because nothing feels better to him than righteous indignation.  When that’s what you get off on, it’s easier and easier to see failure and injustice in your broken record life.  It’s well past a case of a person having fallen through the cracks who is crying out to be heard.  At this point, he’d rather make those around him uncomfortable because that’s the only emotional satisfaction that registers.  He’s the kind of guy who likes to see you squirm and dance.  He’s the kind of guy who doesn’t think it’s funny when you ignore him, even to turn your back.  Apparently, he’s harmless.  

I stay in my office, but as per usual, I keep my ears open  in case he decides to shake us all down with a .38 for our caramels.

There’s a plan to go tonight with a big group from work to a play.  I am feeling the bottom of the drain pressing into my skull and I’m sinking into my chair with dread just thinking about it.  I don’t know how to get out of going without seeming like I’m blowing off the whole group of people that I work with, so I’m just doing my best to look sick and miserable and naturally, I’m starting to feel like death warmed over.  Doesn’t count for too much, though.   I’m down the hallway and whatever faces I pull are for my own benefit.

I have to provide food, since it’s not just a play but a potluck as well, and then kick around here for another 25 minutes until I’m kicked out of my computer for circumstances unforeseen before having to be here for another few hours of…I don’t know, chatting and then the play and I won’t get home until 9:30, at least.  At this very moment, I am just entirely and wholly opposed to the whole concept of socializing in general.  I am not opposed to a nap, some aspirin, and a nice skull massage.

I don’t know.  I really don’t.  If someone out there, tooling around and coming across this blog and this post, had got it together, I would sure love a copy of your plan.  My plan is just to not cry for the next five minutes. 

It’s not that bad.  It really isn’t.  My life has a lot of joy in it and much reason for cheer.  I just have a headache and am being melodramatic.

It is never so bad.

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