It’s Tuesday afternoon, around two, and the heat from the window units and the winter sun blasting through the blindless windows, beat me into submission. I sit at my desk and count the forty-first drop of sweat running down my brow. My shirt is ruined. My previous efforts at manipulating the window heaters were futile. I am too tired to even try now. Running a sleeve over my forehead, the back of my hand measures my brain’s temperature. I am burning up. Her phone rings in the next cubicle and my thoughts are fever dreams.

Whose muffled voice is on the other end? No, wait a minute, I think she’s speaking. What is the big secret? Drowsy, I focus on my spreadsheet. Ten seconds later, my head reels from a number jumble. Heat calls me to sleep and my eyelids flutter shut. I am going down, just for a minute, I’m sure.

Did she just say my name?!

Now I’m awake and listening. Indiscernible words frustrate me. Bending my head forward, towards her cubicle wall, my thoughts twirl in a whirlwind of secret agents and paranoia.

“The answer to your question is yes.”

What was that? What did she just say? Who the hell talks like that?

There was a time when she just started, I tried to be nice. One Friday, some of us were headed out for a beer after work. Asking her if she would like to join, her one word answer was “No.” Not “No, thank you.” Not “I’m sorry but I am meeting my boyfriend for dinner.” Back then I pegged her as simply odd. Did she think I was putting a move on her? Does she want to keep her work and personal worlds separate? Does my breath stink? Finally, I chalked it up to her social retardation.

Similarly, I asked her a question a few minutes ago. She was whispering on the phone then too. She held up one finger in my direction so, I waited at my desk, unsuccessfully maintaining conciousness. It’s getting too late to get back to me dear. I think about going without her but I figure that would be rude. I wait for her to poll her constituency telephonically. What does he want? Be leery of him. He only wants you for your body, money…Anybody’s guess.

The functional design dances on my desk, trying to grab my eye. I consider opening it and giving it a once over. It’s too damn hot and I can’t be bothered working, so damn tiresome. Better left for a day when I am not so irritable.

Receiver lands in its cradle quietly as if she doesn’t want to betray her conversation. That rouses me. May we get on with it now honey? I wait a second then three hundred more.

My head lowers to my chest. In a moment, there will be no denying sleep. That is when her chair moves. Quiet footsteps herald her approach.

“Hey, what’s up?” So she hadn’t heard my question.

“The heat’s putting me to sleep. Would you like to get a Coke?”

“Never drink the stuff. Enjoy though.”

Denied company again, this sad, friendless office drone enjoys his cold caffeine alone.

¶ 3:17 PM