COME BACK AS A WASP

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

M. brings in a 12" statue of Buddha. It is made of a clear, see-through glass tinted a beautiful emerald green. The head is tinted yellow.

J: "Your Buddha looks like Jolly Rancher candy!"

M: "No he doesn't."

J: "What does he taste like?"

M: "Jake, stay away from my Buddha!"

I can't help myself. Something about the way he looks forces me to run my fingers all over his little bumpy head.

M: "Jake, what are you doing? Stop it! Do you want to be reincarnated as a wasp?"

I go back to my desk, giggling in fits of laughter.

M: "Jake, you are a conversation. I am a press conference."

J: "What?"

M: "You heard me. You are a trash can and I am the city dump."

J: "Did you get that from a rap song?"

M: "Jake, two things. Number one- don't touch my Buddha! Number two-"

As soon as she says 'Buddha,' I am out of my chair in a mad dash to touch the Buddha head again. It's hypnotic.

M: "Jake! What are you doing? You're so bad. Stop it! You're going to come back in another life as a wasp. Is that what you want?"

J: "I bet he tastes like watermelon."

M: "Stop it. I'm going to spray perfume all over him so you won't touch him anymore."

J: "Don't do that. I can't help it. Have you felt his bumpy little head? Where did you get him?"

M. purses her lips and lets out a long, overly important constipated noise. She leans back in her chair and slants her eyes.

M: "One of my many trips to Thailand, gaaaaaahhhhh..."


Later on, she tells me to hurry and earn more money playing online poker so she can get liposuction. I remind her that the chips I win have no real value and cannot be turned in for cash. That makes no difference. Her plan is for me to do so well on internet poker that I am confident enough to play in Las Vegas and win her some real money.

J: "I never agreed to pay for your liposuction. You don't need it, M. You are the last person in the world who needs liposuction."

M: "You did too agree with it. I told you about my plan and you agreed."

J: "I did not. You know, some people who get liposuction and don't need it turn out worse."

M: "How so?"

J: "Like, their skin gets wrinkly and they get all wobbly."

M: "Like this?" (She holds her arms out like a zombie and starts wobbling all over.) "Oh, let me get the phone." (She wobbles and walks forward, turning her head to say:) "Oh, I'm all wobbly from liposuction. He said it would make me like this."

I really crack up. For some reason, it's a lot funnier than it should be and for several minutes, I can't stop laughing.

After lunch I overhear M. talking to her cube mate. I didn't catch the entire conversation, but I saw M. move her shoulder in a seductive way and tell her cube mate it was code for *wink wink* "Hey!"

I don't understand what it means.

Towards the end of the afternoon, M. and I are talking about bad movies, or more specifically, stories that don't allow the audience to feel sympathy for the main characters.

J: "A lot of new writers make the mistake of writing about people they hate. I guess it's a way for them to vent. But, who wants to read about some jerk? You have to genuinely love people to be a good writer, or at least show sympathy for the characters you write about. Otherwise, nobody will want to read it."

I heard that from Stephen King.

I say this to create an idea in M.'s mind. I don't know if she'll remember it come December, but I want to see her reaction. I really don't want M. to think I'm making fun of her when she finds out about the blog because I have a lot of genuine respect for her and I'd like her to look fondly on these daily excerpts.

J: "It's kind of like The Ernie Blog. I was really sad when I was asked to stop writing it because the blog came from a place of kindness. I never meant it to cause grief."

M.'s cube mate shoots me a wide-eyed stare. She is the only one on the team who knows about M's blog, and she isn't sure where I'm going with the conversation.

M. doesn't seem to feel strongly about it one way or the other, which is a relief. I hope she keeps the same lightheartedness over time.


I'm keeping my fingers crossed. Afterall, I don't want to come back in the next life as a wasp. Yikes!