This is Robbi at 2:06pm. If you think she is just tired, think again. She is tired and angry. She is tired, angry, and looking for someone to bear the brunt of her mid-afternoon ennui. As you may know, I am the closest (and only) target.
And so…
When the woman says, “I need a cookie and a coke,” do you think I sit around waiting for the carnage to begin?
No, indeed. I leap from my chair with a practiced alacrity and trot briskly around the corner, where I purchase a fountain cola from Stam’s and a mocha chocolate chip cookie from Evergrain.
Cautiously, I approach Robbi’s desk gently slide the offering across the floor with my foot before retreating to safety.
A few moments later, Robbi is miraculously transformed into something that vaguely resembles that sweet girl I fell in love with so long ago.
I’m not sure what I’d do if we lived out in the countryside. Or if Robbi’s meltdown had happened after Evergrain was closed for the day.
Robbi, if you clone this Matthew person such that he always is in the mood to provide cookies and colas on demand — you will be a gazilllllionaire. I’d look into it if I were you.
Amy – I know, I KNOW. Though it might be easier for me to patent my method of fury and scorn that gets said results. I bet I could sell THAT to a lot of people.
Robbi – I would buy your patented method of fury & scorn if you could guarantee that it would prompt a dog to make a perfect grilled Swiss cheese on rye and give that sandwich to me (ie, don’t eat it himself).
Have I suddenly been reduced to “dog” status? I had been angling for “loving husband.”