“Marie?” I hollered out of the slightly ajar door to my office that I had just slid over to in my chair. “Yes, Danny?” she asked, quickly standing up, pressing the hold button on the phone. “What time is it?”
“Um...” Marie looked down at her computer, moving the mouse around slightly to wake it up. “4:03, ma’am.” I bit my lip. “Alright. Call me out in twelve minutes.” Marie raised an eyebrow, “Of course, ma’am.”
I slid back into my office and pressed the tips of my fingers together. I could hardly work, I was so distracted with thought about my dream the previous night. I had never had a follow-up dream before. It was so strange. And each of the dreams had ended in the my alarm clock interrupting it. I sighed and stared at my computer screen. It was covered in open documents, downloads, emails, alerts, and a signal that my Skype was ringing. I clicked the Skype alert and pressed the green phone. “Hello?”
“Dan-Danielle? Or do you prefer to be called Danny?” a milky but computerized voice said. I smiled, “Hello. Danny, please.”
“Oh, alright then. Danny, of course. I was wondering if I could schedule and appointment with you?”
“My assistant usually takes care of scheduling-”
“Oh, alright then, should I call her? Would you mind giving me her number?”
“-but I could make an exception,” I finished, interjecting him. “Oh,” he seemed startled, “Alright. Thank you. When are you available?”
“Hm...well...Marie?” I screamed. I heard the man wince and almost laughed. Marie stepped in, “Yes, ma’am?”
“I’m on a business call, and this man would like to know when I’m available.” Marie raised and eyebrow and opened the fat folder of things about me that she kept with her always, flipping to a section marked with a red tab that said ‘schedule’. “Um..let’s see,” she said, flipping wildly through pages, clearly feeling awkward. She was quiet as she hurriedly scanned through a black ink 12-point font typed page with noted written in red all around the typed words. “Thursday. At...3:30. Until 4:00.” I raised my eyebrows, “That’s it?”
“Well, I could check next week, but you’re mostly filled up-”
“No, no. That’s fine, I suppose. Will a half an hour be fine for you, sir?”
“I suppose so, sure.”
“Good. Then its scheduled. Write, that down Marie. Marie pulled a red pen out of the large bun on her head-which I’m sure was filled with a variety of different colored pens and maybe even a highlighter or two, definitely another pencil, other than the one sticking out behind her ear and the one sticking out of the top of her fat me binder-and was about to write it down when she looked up. “I’m sorry, what was the sir’s name, ma’am?”
“Oh. Yes. What is your name, sir?”
“Oh, right, sorry, its Mika.” Marie and I stared at each other in silence. “Mika?” Marie said quietly after a pause, and I watched as she tried to fight off the smile attacking her lips. I’m not sure how he heard her when she was so quiet, but he must have because he proceeded to say, “Yes, like the singer. Or band. Or whatever he is. The one man band.”
“Your name is Mika?” Marie repeated. I stifled a laugh and motioned for her to be silenced. “Well, Mika, I’ll see you Thursday.”
“Alright. You can laugh now, you don’t have to wait until I’m off the phone.” Marie guffawed and I heard Mika chuckle before I quickly pressed the red phone and slapped Marie in the arm.
“Turn off Adam Lambert.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s gay.”
“How rude!”
“I don’t mean it like that. I mean he’s gay. Like, he’s actually gay.”
“So why would you not listen to someone’s music just because they’re gay?”
“Why would you stop listening to someone’s music just because they beat up their girlfriend?”
“That doesn’t even make sense. Why would you listen to someone who beat up their girlfriend?”
“Oh, Marie. If you’re being honest with yourself, you know that a lot of people you listen to beat up their girlfriends.”
“If you’re being honest with yourself, you would know that a lot of people you listen to are gay.”
“Oh yea? Like who?”
“Mika.”
“That’s different. Adam Lambert is totally disgusting.”
“So are a lot of other artists.”
“Which is why I don’t listen to them. Now turn off this crud.” Marie sighed and turned off the music, “Okay, I don’t like Adam Lambert very much either, but you have to admit that he has a good voice.” I rolled my eyes, “Oh please. That’s not his real voice. Have you ever heard his real voice? He sounds like a dying walrus.”
“You are a mean person.”
“And you are an annoying person. Now put on some decent music.”
© 2010
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