Brevity

The days grow longer as the summer months approach. I sit in my workstation staring at the natural light, hoping that I may steal a few moments and sit in its warming glow as I stare across the river at a tiny little island that is home to so many.

That giant cruise ship everyone was talking about last week floated by my window on Friday and I thought to myself about how tiny it looked. As the crowds of co-workers flocked to view "the historic" moment, I wondered if this would be the highlight of my employment with this company. Seventy five people standing pressed against the the glass, as if they were mid-westerners straining to get a glimpse of Katie Couric (or at least Matt Lauer) at the Today Show window, all taking in the sight of a big ship as it slowly ambled its way up the river.

I sighed and turned back to my computer screen, hoping that something else would come along, something memorable, something noteworthy. I was looking for a punctuation to the many horrible tales I've told. And then a deux e machina was thrown across my desk.

"Can you sign for a package for T....T....?" The mailroom attendant asked me. I pride myself on being friendly to all, regardless of their position in the company. At best it's gotten me a few free shoe shines, at worst I've become sort of a go to for all packages that can't be signed for.

"Sure" I replied as I took the slip and scrawled my sorry squiggles across the signature line.
I glanced at the yellow packaging and recognized the sender. While working in the New York office I had often signed for these packages for T....T...., always wondering what they contained. A co-worker of his told me they were Viagra, and I hoped he was wrong every time I handed the package to the balding, squat owner.

But this package had a small hole in the corner, no doubt from the lovely job the mailroom does of tossing packages into the wire transport carts as if it was a pick up game on the black top. Well this hole was the answer to a question that had often crossed my mind and I took my pinky and widened it a bit, not much just enough so that the light could stream in and I could see what I had been signing for these past few months.

I peered in at a prescription bottle and scanned the label for the dreaded V, no such luck. I push the bottle close to the opening and tried to keep it facing label out. There it was a bottle of CIALIS. I threw it on T....'s desk chair and ran out of the office, hoping not to have any conferences with him for the rest of the day.

I guess it gives new meaning to hard figures...