Craig isn't getting the sex anymore. It's tough being 56 and single. Heath gained all his weight back and can't wash himself. Susan might be gay, though I strongly doubt this, not because of all the men she's dated, or that she hasn't ever shown an interest in the naked Brittney picture Craig keeps trying to show her….but because she has far too many kitten pictures on her cubicle wall.
"Everyone knows that lesbians don't like kittens," I tell Craig.
"Really?" he asks.
"Really," i tell him. "Don't you read the news? Gay men LOVE cats and so there might be a war at some point….it won't be pretty, but it won't be ugly. It will be terse. It will be flippant. It will be well accessorized."
I mess with Craig constantly. He is my bosses boss and he has been retired on the job for years. He is probably the longest running employee on base. He lived here and worked as a firefighter after 'Nam. He cannot hear and so he gossips at top volume, sitting in my cubicle, about everyone else who sits around me. Which is one reason that I cannot ever give him a serious answer. I don't give a SHIT who Susan sleeps with (Craig keeps wishing it would be HIM, but since she isn't taking the 56 year old bigoted deaf bait, she is clearly an Indigo Girl fan).
"Should I tell Heath that he needs to figure out a way to bathe? I'm getting complaints…" Craig bellows.
I can hear Heath mouth breathing over our conjoined cloth and plastic wall.
I point at the wall and indicate that Craig should shut up. "What? You think he can hear me? He breathes too fucking loud…."
I cough and open and close drawers. I turn back to my keyboard. I want him to leave so badly that I find myself humming thru gritted teeth.
"Did you know that Terry isn't Chinese? She's a gook!"
I don't even know what that terminology means, except that it isn't good. Terry is the nicest woman, and most efficient programmer we have. Every time our unit has a potluck, Craig asks her to bring "something Chinese…whatever you fix at home."
"I guess next time I'll ask her to bring Gook Food to our potluck…"
"JESUS!" I hiss, "That's a horrible thing to say! GODDAMN!" I gesture to indicate all that is around me, everyone.
Craig gets up,
"You shouldn't say 'Jesus' or 'Goddamn'. That is unacceptable…..Don is a Christian and he has complained about your language."
He walks down the isle to Susan's cubicle where I hear him demand, "Do you like cats? Or is this irony?"