One Hammer Handle, One Toothless Saw (No Anaesthetic) (10/15/08 Wednesday)

Got a glimpse in the toolbox yesterday. The inventory was obvious.

My early day and Julie's late, I knew already I'd try to avoid her. It worked until she showed up. The desk was my duty after lunch, and I went straight there from the computers upstairs. For half an hour I was fine. Then a patron couldn't find her hold. I double-checked the hold shelves, hoping to find it misshelved and avoid a trip to the back. It wasn't there. I'd keep blinders on, not look for or see Julie, if I could help it. I open the door to the workroom and guess who crosses my path, returing from mail-packing with a small cart? I saw her glance at me and couldn't smile: That big-eyed smileless face scared me lifeless. I mumbled, "Hi, Julie," got no reaction. Perhaps she hadn't heard me, but that's not what my mind made of it. I was sunk, a well-cast pebble capsizing my battleship. I looked on the sorting carts, then made the mistake that fatally challenged my equipage: I asked Mary Lou if she had any holds. She didn't have any, but had to bounce from her desk to follow me out. "It's not out here!" I all but belllowed at her as I opened the door. Her bad hearing selectively ignored me, and again at the holds shelf, when after she checked where I just had and declared, "It's not there," I replied loudly, in front of the patron, "We know that, already!" and turned to check the stacks. I found it there, but that didn't rid me of Mary Lou. She was in front of my monitor when I got back. I inserted myself in between and inflated like a mad toad to block the screen from her view. Mary Lou asked, "Is that the one we should've trapped?" "I don't know," I curtly replied. "It doesn't matter. Just go away." She did. My behavior in front of the patron disgusted me, but I wasn't feeling apologetic toward Mary Lou, and at first intended to elaborate on my displeasure when I got off the desk. But good as that might have made me feel immediately, it wouldn't have stood me well with my other coworkers, though it might have served notice to Mary Lou to just not "help" me in the future.

I couldn't sit the rest of the hour. I knew it was time to talk to Tammy; this was not work-related. My first intention upon getting her ear was to get the rest of the day off--flee--but we were short-handed and I didn't want to make matters worse. I was at the window the next hour. I listened for the sound of her keyboard and approached her in her office. "Will you be here, in your office, next hour?" Slowly, she answered, "Yeah," almost with a question mark. I said, "I need to talk with you." "Oh, no," she said, dripping dread and sympathy. We settled on the next hour, though she'd have to leave at a quarter after. I got back to my post, feeling better already. Just a few minutes later, though, she found me and told me she'd gotten Becky to cover the window for me, and I followed her into her office.

I closed the door behind me. "Uh-oh," said Tammy. "Closed door meeting. I don't think we've had one of these with you before."

"I don't think it's that bad."

"Oh, good."

"I don't think it's that bad."

"Oh." Her lips froze around the word.

I took a deep breath and stared at the wall a moment before turning back to her. "I'm having trouble," I said, "working with someone here." I hadn't really known what I was going to say, so I was being careful. I knew I could trust her, but.... "It's not about their attitude or their work habits, or anything like that." Tammy was leaning toward me across her desk. "I guess I should tell you who it is."

"You better," she laughed, "now that you've built up the suspense."

"It's Julie."

"Julie?" More than incredulity was written across her face. The reaction unsettled me slightly, but relieved me somehow, too.

"A couple weeks ago," I started--"no, a few weeks ago, I asked Julie out for tea, and I , uh, expressed myself." I was pleased with the expression; Tammy's laugh confirmed her understanding. "But I got the 'nice guy' line."

"Oh, no!" She seemed almost to take it personally. "Oh, that's so sad!"

"Well, so, since then it's been very difficult working around her. I've been very...erratic, for lack of a better word." I hesitated to, but concisely detailed Julie's stated philosophy on getting to know someone. Tammy's puzzlement equalled mine of the time--and that of everyone else I've told.

Besides offering to schedule Julie and me away from each other--"Or would that make it worse?" "Much worse"--Tammy had no solutions, but I wasn't expecting or wanting that. She offered a sympathetic ear, and that was what I needed.

Tammy told me she'd noticed "something, some"--she pointed her fingers at each other and wiggled them--"spark."

"Oh, really." I shouldn't have been surprised, nor even at my lack of notice. I'd thought that "feminine intuition" had failed the test in the workplace, but it was only my powers of observation as I was absorbed in my mission; though maybe my fear of discovery was well-founded.

"And I wasn't the only one." I wanted names but thought that indiscreet. "With the puzzles, you two bent over the together. And other things." Again, I didn't let myself ask for elaboration.

We talked for the better part of the hour. As usual, I wished I'd done this long ago. How could I doubt anymore that someone would be rooting for me? I went back to the window, just a few feet from Julie at her desk, feeling nearly buoyant from the lifted weight. I never did ask to leave early.