Quiet, Please

Sigh! I am so sick of Angela. I can hear her droning on and on. She’s in the second cubicle away from me, and that is really not far enough away. I don’t think the second floor away would even do it, since I would probably be able to hear her still. I sometimes think I can hear her chattering when I sleep.

All day long, she yaps and yaps. If it’s not about her boyfriend, it’s about her mom. Then she gripes about work, and the boss, and how much she has to do. If all that’s not enough, she tells how she could be doing so much better somewhere else. I say GO, please, anywhere that I can’t hear her anymore.

I’m sure she’s probably a nice girl and all that, but her constant relentless string of chitchat is driving me insane. And her voice, oh man, her voice is like the whine of a dentist’s drill. High-pitched and whiney, especially when she’s talking about the boyfriend. I wish there was something that would turn her off for just a little while so I could actually get some work done.

Oh, what now? Ugh! They’re putting up decorations for somebody’s retirement, or birthday, or something. I see Angela’s helping, good little worker, aren’t you? And she’s still rapping. Jerry’s got a staple gun. I didn’t think he even knew how to use an ink pen, let alone a staple gun. Ha. I scrunch down so I don’t have to watch, shaking my head.

The next sound I hear is a screech, then strangely, silence. Then there is tumultuous activity. I rise slowly from my chair and peer over the cubicle wall. Jerry is helping Angela down the hallway. She seems to be clutching her face. Good grief! What’s happened? Oh, no, he’s shot her eye out or something! I can’t stand her talking, but I don’t want her to get hurt, either.

Julie is standing by the window, looking stunned. I ask her what happened. She doesn’t really know, except Jerry was stapling up the banner, and then she heard Angela scream and saw blood on her face.

I go back to my desk and work in quiet. It’s really kind of nice, I think. Angela doesn’t come in the next day, but on the second day she is back. She looks okay, I think. She’s awfully quiet, though. I see Julie at lunch later, and ask her what the deal is with Angela.

She told me Angela had been talking up at Jerry while he was stapling and distracted him. The staple gun went off and hit Angela in the tongue. Her doctor says she will recover completely, but she will not be able to speak for at least two weeks from the swelling, and to allow the muscle to heal.

I know it’s terrible, but I struggle to contain my laughter until I get to the rest room and let it free. I think I really shouldn’t be enjoying this situation, but I can’t help it. After a couple of minutes of hysterics, I wipe my eyes and go back to my cubicle. On the way I stop to tell Angela that I hope she gets well soon. She nods, and I go back to my desk thinking, Wow, this is going to be a great two weeks!

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