[ d i a r y o f a d o r k ]

07.14.99 I imagine myself sneaking up on Tony and dropping a plastic bag on his head. He would struggle for a bit, but in his overweight and sluggish state, his ineffectual flailing would mimic that of a fat and oxygen deprived trout flopping about on the deck of a boat. I’d spin his chair around during his last moments of consciousness to reveal his attacker. Me. His eyes, bursting from his head with both surprise and suffocation, would search mine for a reason. Any reason. I’d wait until the last possible moment and mouth the words, “You talk on the phone too much.” You see, Tony sits in the cube next to me and yaps on the phone all day long. His voice is reedy and gets me like fingers on a chalkboard. His conversations are inane and repetitive. He tells the same story, usually of his evening before, to as many people who will listen and then proceeds to leave abbreviated versions on the answering machines of about a dozen more. I’m not sure what surprises me more about Tony-that the stories he tells are really the extent of his pathetic life, or that he actually has that many friends. The same drama is played out day after day; I’m afraid I’ll grow old and look like my father, I’m not attractive, I’ve been dieting but there are no results, my girlfriend is a virgin and won’t have sex with me, I’m having liposuction on my back, legs, ass, arms and chin, my cat hates me, I’m broke. I have so much unsolicited information about his personal life that I can’t even look at him when I pass by him in the hall. The other thing that sticks in my craw are the people who don’t sit near Tony. They say things like “Hey, that Tony is a really nice guy,” and “Dontcha just love Tony?” I want to scream, “HEY! A really nice guy wouldn’t tell twelve people that his girlfriend is a virgin!” I’m quite convinced, though I don’t know her, she wouldn’t appreciate that information being broadcast to the greater Chicago area. As a result of Tony’s boorish office behavior, I’m subject to many fantasies like the one above. I’m more than a little creeped out to think of such things, but then, my imagination has been on overdrive since I can remember. People like Tony bring out the worst in me.