For the last two months I have been working at a biomedical lab as a technician. This not only gives me a unique perspective on the industry, but a myriad of bazaar encounters I can use at will to delight my friends. One of my recent endeavors occurred with the woman I work with in the morning named Susan.
It was on my second week of work that they finally left me, unchaperoned, in the dish room with her. It occurred to me that we had never been alone together before and I wondered what we would talk about. She seemed normal enough. She had a husband who taught at the high school and kids older than me. So I was guessing normal stuff, recipes, weather, maybe a movie she had seen on OnDemand. I was trying to sort out something original to ask her when she surprised me by making the first move.
"Do you know any witnesses?" she asked. That caused me to pause and think... witnesses? Did she know my sister had been out that day for jury duty? Was she asking about the murder trial in the Cape Cod Times this week? I knew the kid, we went to high school together, but I had hardly witnessed him killing a tourist in a drive-by.
"Oh yes," I responded, enthusiastically, "Why just the other day I witnessed the funniest thing..." When I trailed off. The gold chain around her neck flashed in the UV light and I realized what type of witnesses she was asking about. "Erm- Actually, no. No, I don't." Silence.
Since my parents denounced organized religion when they were baked in 1978 my family has been actively celebrating the winter solstice for thirty two years. The last time I was in a church was a school tour of Salem, Massachusetts in third grade. All I could hope for was that Susan didn't ever touch my skin. I was sure I would burn.
The next week passed with no more mention of Witnesses, the jury kind or the religious affiliation. I was beginning to think I was in the clear when one day Susan sat down next to me at lunch and pressed a stack of vouchers into my hand. The title of the first brochure read, "Is God Responsible for Natural Disasters?" and any doubt that Hell did in fact exist was erased my mind. I was going to burn. Forever.
I threw out the brochures as soon as she walked away because I figured at this point, there was little hope of redemption. Besides, I had kind of gotten used to my heathen lifestyle and the food was was great so what was the point? But the next day she asked me about it again, and I had to admit I had not read the brochures. Not even the one titled "A Visit to a Chinese Pharmacy" which might have, at the very least, been culturally enriching.
I told her the truth. "Susan, although I do not believe God is responsible for natural disasters, I have been to a Chinese pharmacy and the tea is quite good. Your brochures were very helpful. Thank you."
The blank look in her face told me this was not the response she was expecting. Combativeness she could have handled. Denial would have been even better. Susan knew how to refute any argument against her way of believing. A conversation about herbal tea? That was not part of the recruitment training. Baffled, she walked away, muttering to herself.
Victory was sweet. Or so I thought.
Later that day I passed her walking with a coworker. I heard her say, "The new tech is a little slow. What a shame, such a nice girl."
Oh well.
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