Chat Room

Veronica just stuck her head over the partition again to tell me about her nephew’s latest exploits on the cricket pitch. How does she not realise that I have zero interest in that subject? I mean, I don’t mind hearing about that kind of thing from time to time, but she acts like I’m super keen on it – as though she’s giving me a special treat by serving up this incredibly boring recount of a fairly mundane event.

Have I done something to suggest that I’m a cricket fan? Have I got some kind of connection to her nephew that I’ve forgotten about? Or is Veronica just happy to gnaw off the nearest set of ears with this tripe? I strongly suspect it’s the latter, in which case this flimsy divider is not doing its job in demarcating my designated workspace.

Management has been talking about replacing those dividers with those decorative commercial glass partitions, but I’m not getting my hopes up – I’ll believe it when I see it. Truly, floor-to-ceiling glass would go a long way towards limiting situations of this kind, although I would be surprised if Veronica took to simply walking the extra few steps to tell me inane stories.

At least if the glass was frosted I wouldn’t have to deal with her grinning conspiratorially at me from over the way. What’s that about? I wish my workstation had automatic windows – preferably with a dark tint – that I could roll up, limousine style, whenever I sensed Veronica gearing up to get chatty. Maybe I should look into office window tinting. UV protective qualities be damned – I just want a bit of privacy. I don’t think they install that stuff in cubicles, though.

Maybe I just need to tell Veronica the truth – that I’d like it if she paid a bit more attention to my responses to her stories and pieced together when I’m not interested. It sounds a bit harsh, but hey, she needs to learn.