This morning. Boarding the elevator at the office with Mr. Zoom and two other co-workers. One co-worker is old enough to remember when there was no such thing as television broadcasts in color. She is matronly. The other one is so young that he couldn't possibly know what life might have been like with cell phones that were just phones and bigger than a lipstick . He's the young and hip. There are a few others that do not work with our company sharing this ride.
Mr. Zoom has carried my bag o' lunch, books and bric-a-brack from the car for me. Just before we reach the floor he and young hipster depart on - he swings my bag towards me. I am convinced that his swinging of the bag is his playful attempt flip my compulsion switch. We have a this thing between us - everytime he swings a bag, I playfully nag him not to do it. I don't expect anyone to understand why we do this, we just do. I jokingly bristle at him "NOOOO. Don't swing it!"
Matronly notices and says "What's the matter? Is he tossing your salad?"
The Earth slowed its rotation (I felt it) and my eyebrows shot up and over my hair, landing on the back of my head. I had to think fast. Everyone knows I'd have better luck wearing a jacket made out of striker board, pants made out of match sticks - and running through a car wash of lighter fluid.
Young hiptser starts to giggle.
I fight the urge to stomp on his toes. I do not look at him OR Mr. Zoom. I know better than to think any rescue will come from that direction. And of course we have to stay in this box until the very last stop.
"No. uh. no. NO no no. He's shaking up my cola." DO NOT LAUGH. NO EYE CONTACT. DO NOT LAUGH. Yup. That's the best I could do.
As Mr. Zoom and Young hipster depart on their floor, I hiss "STOPPIT." Which only serves to fan the flames of giggle into full blown laughter. The doors close and I'm left with Matronly, who THANKFULLY has no idea that she's just added a porn element to the Monday morning of 3 co-workers and 2 complete strangers.
The aftermath. I sat at my desk and had a debate with myself. Which was worse? That ride I just took or the time I exited a loo with the back of my skirt tucked into my hose? And I didn't figure it out for like, 5 minutes.
With that, my brain leaked out of my ear and I've been quietly working at my desk ever since.