Beep, beep
I work with Flint in a loose sense. We work in a shared office. The dedicated desk area has sound insulation on the wall. I’m not sure how much it helps, a seat there costs almost twice as a flexi desk, the option both Flint and I take. The flexi area is closer to the kitchen. Is it a curse or a blessing? That depends on the time of the day. When they put away the cutlery from the dish washer, it can be noisy.
I arrive early, so many seats to choose from. It gets filled up by 10. Flint takes the last seat on the other side of the room. He opens his laptop, it looks so tiny in front of this bulky guy. The muscles around his eyes become tense. From the moment he sits down, he concentrates so hard it makes me wonder what takes so much mental effort of him. Maybe he should be doing something easier. It hurts to see the strain.
My phone beeps, I have a meeting in ten minutes. Flint stands up and comes to my desk. I already know what he’s about to say, and he knows I know. “Could you turn off the sound on your phone?”
I explained him earlier why it’s not an ideal solution. If I turn off the sound now, I’ll forget to turn it on again. I won’t hear any message. He doesn’t seem to care. In his world, it’s my job to remove this noise. I think this is a problem we share, solving it should be a joint effort.
He doesn’t come every day. When I see him step out of the elevator, I get this uneasy feeling. I’m sure it’s mutual.
