The chick across the hallway (CATH) has a rather persnickety personality. A publicist. She’s irritatingly precise. A stickler and a whiner. Makes her good at her job but not so fun to hang out with, (not that I’ve tried — I’m just guessing).
I don’t have the greatest office space ─ nice furniture and technology but no window. My office faces hers and we can see each other behind our desks. CATH gets a salad for lunch every day and I can see and hear her munching it. It drives me nutty. It’s like my own personal tell-tale heart.
This morning she was complaining about a sulfer smell outside her office. Like something was rotting. I smelled a mild something … the woman down the hall had old flowers that were rather pungent. Or could it be the printer toner I just changed? Whatever it was, I couldn’t really place it and it didn’t seem like that strong of a smell.
Next thing I know she called building services and asked them to come upstairs and scout it out. They came promptly, and started sniffing around. CATH asked whether a mouse could have died near a vent. The whole thing seemed absurd to me.
And finally I said what everyone was thinking, “Hey, maybe someone farted?”
The building services people cracked up. CATH, shocked, stifled her smile. It was a simple observation on my part, not a cheap attempt at laughs. These ridiculous experiences are the hum drum of office existence.