Just Another Monday
A very, very short story by D.J. Lutz, copyright February 2011
I was hoping that it wouldn’t be just another Monday when I passed the receptionist. She gave me a slight, yet slanted smile as she continued cutting the picture of her boyfriend up into tiny little pieces. “You here to fix the machine? It’s in the back.” she said, looking back down to see what else she could mutilate. “Thanks, I remember,” I replied. I had been stopping by this office weekly, yet it was as if we had just met…again.
I walked into the office, eyeing the gauntlet between the four desks, each workstation commanded by its own little general. The first man didn’t say anything to me. He wasn’t working, he was just sitting. His glare said it all, though. The lady across from him was shuffling papers back and forth on her desk. She seemed confused and quite a bit irritated at her dilemma. Again, another glare. The third person was the accountant. He never smiled anyway.
Reaching the last desk, I only had a few more feet to go. The fourth worker looked at me and said “Did you see the vending machine guy? I’m looking for the vending machine guy. We’re out of D-7.” I looked over at the vending machine. D-7 was the chocolate covered Twinkie. I pity the vending machine guy; he might get stabbed before he can reload.
The boss was in the separate office. His secretary was in there, crying. Fourth man blurted “Yeah, he just told her he wasn’t leaving his wife. Now we gotta deal with a cranky gal all day.” I smiled, no need to engage in this type of irony. I was just here to do a job and get out.
Ten minutes later, I was on my way, safely reaching the receptionist’s desk without any knives in my back, or front. “All done,” I mentioned as I changed course for the elevator. “Just in time, Bob. If you hadn’t fixed that coffee machine this morning, I’m afraid we might have had a mutiny.” I chuckled. She said the same thing last week, and the week before. She’ll probably say it next week, too. Why they didn’t buy a new machine was beyond me, but hey, gave me something to do, I guess.
As the elevator door opened, another service guy walked out. “You the vending machine guy?” I asked. “No, I’m here to fix the copy machine, why?”
“Ugh, D-7… again?”
Yes, it’s just another Monday….