Every day, I break the law.
Every day I ride the scooter, anyway. There’s this one street where the light is always red. You know the street. It stays red forever. You’re tapping your foot, looking both ways, noticing no traffic coming, but it stays red.
Well, I got tired of waiting one day and zipped across the intersection. What’s the problem? No one was around to see! I felt guilty for about two seconds, and then I laughed and was amazed at my audacity. I did it again the next time I was on the scooter. I did it again this morning.
I was raised to respect authority. Traffic lights are part of that. Flouting such a basic rule rattles my nerves even as I’m pleased with my daring.
Do you realize driving is a social contract? Absolutely! We are all part of it when we obey the stop sign and the stop light. We tacitly agree not to speed across the intersection against the light in order not to cause an accident. ‘Cause we don’t want anyone banging into us, we don’t bang into others. Cool, huh?
But sometimes, the law must be broken. Like when I’m at that sorry street where the light never changes. Don’t tell! 🙂
Meanwhile, at the office, the drama has increased exponentially. Last week, CG called in sick on Thursday. Usually, she calls in on a Monday, so this was notable. Friday, she dragged her ass in, sat in a chair, and bowed her head into one hand, succeeding at looking pitiful. No one said a word.
The minute the Boss left, she came back to life and pretty much acted normal the rest of the day: didn’t do much work, tapped on her phone a lot, spent a lot of time in the back part of the house.
Monday arrived. Bill, Church Lady, and I took bets as to whether or not she’d appear. I said she would, figuring she wouldn’t dare not show up after last week. They were uncertain.
She called in sick!
I know. We couldn’t believe it either! She told Bill she had “very important decisions to make” and “have to see a few doctors.”
Say hello to a prima drama queen. Needless to say, we were alternately flabbergasted and annoyed. Bill went off to do his thing at the courthouse, Church Lady did what she does (which is almost everything), and I did CG’s work in addition to my own. I was fuming. I think we all were in our own special ways.
The Boss showed up later and said, “I told her if she doesn’t show up by ten tomorrow, I told her not to bother coming in at all.”
Right. The rest of us have witnessed the favoritism bestowed on this girl with raised eyebrows. We know the score. CG is the daughter Boss never had, and for that, she gets special treatment.
On Tuesday, we watched the clock and gave each other looks. CG showed up at three minutes past ten. The disappointment was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. I think we were all hoping CG wouldn’t show, and when she did, well, the confrontation was put off.
But Boss wasn’t there to witness this anyway, so it was an empty victory for CG and a letdown for the rest of us.
Small offices suck.
And what did CG do when she arrived? Made one call. Tapped on her phone. Cried a little at her desk (no one asked why). Left messages with a quavery voice. Tapped some more. Went into the back. Returned, went into the back again. Ordered lunch. Went off to get said lunch. Tapped on her phone. Spoke with the Boss. Was unexpectedly cheery again. Tapped. … Oh! And told us she got all four tires changed on her car yesterday because her new lover said the old ones were so bad, she was riding in a death trap.
In other words, it was the typical workday.