It began with those two words. Uttered so many times, by so many people. She had said these words many times. But today, she meant it.
Sitting in front of a computer screen, inside a grey cubicle, surrounded by slips of paper, random photos, and semi-inspirational quotes, Melissa stared deeply into a wall behind her.
One of those stares that sometimes accidentally finds a human target, causing that uncomfortable half second where you turn to avoid any notion of awkwardness with the person on the receiving end. But a wall. There is no danger in staring at a wall. No awkward potential. Maybe the boss might come by and ask why you are staring at a wall. But that was the risk she was willing to take.
Blink.
Back to the computer.
The economy had emptied out the cubicles surrounding her. And those who survived seemed to be in a different geographic location of the office.
Blink Blink
The water cooler conversation a thing of the past, social networking sites blocked, You Tube filtered.
Blink Blink Blink
I should get back to work, she thought. This staring business was going no where
"Excuse me..."
A soft, deep voice.
An unknown voice.
An odd voice.
Melissa turned around
"Yes?"
Her eyes scanned the room. She peeked around to the next cubicle. No one.
Was she losing her mind?
No, she thought. Maybe it was someone on Skype.
You know, those people who feel the need to be connected with someone at all times, to the point where their only escape from this network is a power outage.
Melissa went back to the computer. Back to routine
"Ahem...excuse me..."
There is was again. Once again, she peeked, she scanned, she stood up.
Nothing
"Can I help you?"
No response. Then...
"Why actually yes," came the voice.
Ok, this is getting weird, she thought.
Worry started to settle in. The first thought was stalker.
It wouldn't have been the first time.
The second thought was God.
But God isn't that loud.
The third thought...was...no it couldn't be
Or could it?
"Can I help you?" she repeated
"Yes. I was wondering if you could do me a favor."
Melissa got up and looked at that wall behind her cubicle.
"Yes?"
"Can you be a dear and take this tack off me! The last person here took all of his tacks but this one. And it is starting to hurt!"
Reaching out at first delicately, and then with a sudden burst of effort, she pulled out the tack, a remnant of those who had preceded her in this empty side of the office.
"Thank you so much! It's been bothering me for weeks, and there has been no one here to take it off!"
A quizzical look came over Melissa's face.
"Oh...anytime. Just glad to help"
Melissa continued
"Oh by the way, I didn't mean to stare at you. I was just bored, since I have no one to talk to anymore."
"Oh don't worry! Usually there are too many people here anyways to notice that i even exist for anything other than a place to hang photos, or to wipe sauce from their burritos. Its been a while since its been just me and some other person."
"Who was that other person?"
"Oh that's a long story for another time. I'm just glad to finally get that tack off my chest!"
That was his chest. Weird.
"OK, well I probably should get back to work."
"OK."
The wall sounded disappointed, but conciliatory. He knew business was important. And what can a talking wall really have to offer?
But Melissa couldn't focus on work anymore, and it wasn't long before the initial reservations of talking to a wall wore off
"Ok, i have to ask you a question."
"Yes?" the wall asked in anticipation, for it hadn't been asked a question in ages.
"Ok so you hear everything that goes on in this room, right..."
"uh-huh..."
"I always wondered..."
"Yes?"
"How? I don't see any ears! In fact, I don't even see a mouth! For all I know, you are just some creepy guy hiding in the wall."
"Ah, I knew one day you'd ask that question."
"What do you mean one day? This is the first time we've talked!"
"Oh. Well, I knew you would ask that question...eventually...you know...within the first few minutes of our first conversation..."
"Oh, then why didn't you just say that?"
"It doesn't sound as dramatic."
Melissa giggled.
Melissa giggled to a wall.
"Well, the story is, I was once like you. A worker, who loved to talk to everyone around me. I was the life of the office. I had advice for anyone who asked, and ear for anyone who listened, a story for anyone who needed something to hear. Then, one day, people started to turn to their computers, not just for work like in the old days, but to chat. Some instant message thing. AIM i believe it was called"
Melissa looked down. She remembers those days, falling prey to the impersonal, yet seemingly personal form of communication summarized by a high pitched tone.
"But i refused. I wanted to keep my conversations personal, face to face, eye to eye. But over time, few people seemed to care. All i would hear are 2 tones, one for incoming, one for outgoing messages..."
"I'm sorry to hear that..." Melissa offered a half guilt ridden condolence.
"And to make matters worse, over the years, people started to go on MySpace. I'm sure you heard of it."
Melissa nodded.
"Soon, Myspace turned into YouTube and Facebook, and I would walk around the office, cubicle to cubicle, to find one friendly face to chat with. But they were all engrossed in their online conversations...their online relationships and flirtations...looking up old friends, new loves, or that Dramatic Squirrel video."
She'd been there.
"So I went back to my chair to work."
Then there was a pause. The wall seemed to sigh.
"Are you ok?"
The wall hesitated.
"Yes...this part is just...a bit hard..."
Empathy overcame Melissa.
Empathy for a wall.
Empathy...
"Well, over time, I began so desperate for attention, that I started to do things to get called into the boss' office. I would misfile things. I would forget to send things. I would just do my job without doing my job.
"And for a while it worked. I'd get called in, have a nice little chat, and then back to the cubicle with a simple verbal warning.
"But soon, the warnings began to come in the emails. The castigation electronic. Digital Discipline, they called it."
At this point, Melissa began to feel uncomfortable.
Yes, she, like the rest of the world, had succumbed to this digital world, where the social no longer became social. Where the interaction had a lot less action.
"And there i was, alone, grasping for the air of attention. Trying to breath in one last conversation. When, little by little, the people around me disappeared, replaced by the specter of a call center across the ocean, replace by IT men, by stern businesswomen who had no time for family, friendship, or fun.
"And so one day, i leaned against the wall, in a moment of self pity.
"And I leaned. And leaned. And leaned...until..."
"Until you became the wall" Melissa finished for him the obvious conclusion.
"Yes."
Melissa then became worried. The wall noticed
"Whats wrong?"
"Well, i was thinking. Do you think this could ever happen to me?"
The wall chuckled.
"Well yes and no."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, it could happen. But you see, I made a mistake that you should never make."
"What was it?"
"Well, I gave up. I gave up on my job. I gave up on the few people left. I gave up on technology. I gave up on the human race"
"That's so sad."
A pause.
Had she given up so easily? Sure, she is immersed in the technological society the wall had railed against. But on the other hand, she longed for that dialogue. The face to face. Could she possibly turn to a lack of effort, a lack of grace, just for human contact.
Wait...
Hold on...
The wall wasn't finished
"That. And i forgot to make friends outside the office"
Oh yeah. Melissa had friends outside the office.
5pm. Closing time. A smile spread on her face.
Her fate not sealed.
She neatly packed some papers into her pink over the shoulder bag. She grabbed her lunch bag and tossed it in the trash. She got up, and headed towards the exit of the office.
Then she stopped.
She turned towards the wall.
Silence.
The inanimate wall, remained inanimate. Yet the life it once had when it spoke was gone.
Had she been dreaming?
Either way, she realized that she was focusing too much on the silence of one spot, while ignoring the noise of the other.
Sure, there will be people coming to and from the office. Cubicles will move. And, yes, walls will occasionally talk. But one thing for sure, she could not deny the fact that yes, she did have a world full of social interaction, a place where the only walls that exist are created by stone faced emotions and hidden agendas. A place where she could be the difference
In a way, every day she talks to walls. And every day, she tears them down.
And makes new friends out of acquaintances.
And she claims to be shy.
As she closes the door on the way out, the Wall regains life.
A rumble is felt, but not noticed.
The wall sighed. A sigh of accomplishment.
You know, the sigh you make when you are just about to smile.
THE END
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