I arrived on time to an office for an appointment to speak with someone who was running late.
The place was smaller and had fewer workers than I imagined it would. I always get that stuff wrong.
The door creaked behind me and latched closed way louder than I thought. The silence of the place made any peep as loud as a Who concert. I could hear the clicking of keypads in the other room. The receptionist offered me coffee or water while I waited. I politely declined after I thought of the sound of me swallowing disturbing the workers.
I was told I could sit at an empty desk in the main room until the director I was to meet arrived.
There were four other people doing paperwork and the dead quiet highlighted the tapping of keys and the occasional creak of a chair when someone repositioned themself. One woman raised her head and warmly smiled while tapping away in front of her computer.
I sat and looked around. I checked my watch, gently tapped my fingers on my thighs.
After a few minutes, boredom set in which is consistently the predecessor to a regretful incident.
This time as to be no different.
I spun in my swivel chair.
My feet were tucked underneath it and the heel of my shoe rubbed against the bottom of the seat. It produced a sound that is both familiar and embarrassing.
All evidence pointed to the fact that I had done something terrible, an all too common gastronomical event.
That woman looked at me again but without the warm smile.
I panicked and quickly tried to reproduce the sound to prove that it wasn’t what they thought but I couldn’t.
I tried again and again. Swivel- nothing; swivel-nothing. I jammed my heel against that seat bottom so hard my ankle hurt.
I wouldn’t give up. It looked like I was having some kind of seizure.
The assistant director walked in to see everyone working and me furiously twisting at this desk with my feet wedged under me.
She winced.
I gave her a clumsy forced smile, definitely showing too many teeth.
She subtly shook her head and walked away.
The others wouldn’t make eye contact with me after the noise, only with each other.
She reappeared.
“Mr. Higgins, uh, he just called and said he’ll be later than he thought. Maybe you’d like to…”
I finished her sentence before she could, “…reschedule? yeah, I’ll call another time and reschedule.”
Funny though, I didn’t hear a phone ring “when he called.”
No one said goodbye to me.