Like Legos but with Glue

  I am sitting in a cubicle of Bank of America’s local branch. Local to me, not necessarily you, not even really local to me, the KFC near this bank has much crispier potato wedges than the KFC that is close to the bank that is probably a few blocks closer to my home than the bank where I now sit in a cubicle on a Wednesday afternoon. Size is a considerable component in the crisp of a Potato Wedge, the larger said Wedge is the less crisp said Wedge boasts. Really, with all my cards on the table and hand, now free of holding cards, on the Bible or a book about Billy Ripken, when you factor in crisp, the distance between the two banks is really equidistant. Life seldom boils down to simple economics as in the aforementioned example.



  I have been sitting in this cubicle for about an hour and 45 minutes. In my hands I am cradling a clay pot I picked up somewhere on the way over. It has a hamster design on the side. As I cradle it and it sits on my lap I think about hamsters I have known and lost. The clay is cold against my bare chest and I keep fidgeting to try and adjust it to a place where it won’t be so cold. There is a gentlemen in a light green oxford in the cubicle adjacent to me. Sometimes he is on the phone, other times he is not. He recently had himself a haircut and a few rounds on the golf course judging by the pink tone on creeping up towards the back of the freshly cropped hairline on the back of his neck. Undoubtedly he has noticed me.



  A nice young lady in a short black skirt enters the cubicle.”How are you doing? I’m Tammy. How can we help you here today?” She settles herself in a chair across from mine, pen in hand, ledger at ready, note taking in righteous effect .

“Robbery,” I say hands outstretched like I’m imitating a quail of some sort. More than likely an Egyptian quail knowing my tendencies. The cat pot falters on my chest sans swaddling and I am struck by a palpable anxiety. I stand up and whisper to Tammy, “I could damn right well maintain a lackluster casual relationship with you for at least 32 days before it ends amicably and we try to avoid eye contact when we see each other in passing at the local discotechque” .

I duck into Light Green’s office and we do a tribal dance we both knew the steps to because we were both fans of that popular television show for a period of time.