Betty

I saw Betty at the grocery store the other night. It must be 10 years or more since I last bumped into her. The last time I saw her, she was coming out of CVS while I was heading in. Back then, we chatted for a few minutes. This time, I didn’t bother to say hi. It’s been so long, I’m sure she wouldn’t recognize me, let alone remember that we briefly worked together over fifteen years ago.

Years ago, a division of the company I was working at was going through its death throes and since I was lucky enough to be staying on, it was decided I would move my office to another division. This other division was in an old building about a mile away. I knew a little about the place, but not much. When you walked into this place, you would first go through a small vestibule and then go immediately into the main office. The main office was a large room divided by some old grey filing cabinets, interspersed by three or four older steel desks. Betty sat at one of these desks, the one over by the door. The owners, Abby and Duane, sat at two of the other desks. Abby was the daughter of the former owner. Duane was her husband. They were in charge.

My new office was was on the far side of this room, as far from Betty as you could get and not be out in the shop. This new office had been a former closet that someone had attempted to clean out in preparation of me moving in. As closets go, it was pretty big, even with two desks occupying the space. It would have been worse if my direct boss ever showed up for work, but since he seldom did, I had the space pretty much to myself.

Anyway, the door to this closet was left open all day long. And even though I couldn’t see anyone in the main office, I could easily hear them talking to each other throughout the day. The monotone of Duane’s disembodied voice was usually the loudest, not because of his bartone but because his desk was closest to me. And even though Betty was the furthest away, I could hear her all day long, helping customers or answering her bosses in that sing-songy voice of hers.

After a few days, it was pretty clear to me that Betty was the lynchpin of this operation. I would hear Duane call out to Betty asking her something like where the paperwork was for some customer account and Betty would know right where it was. Or Abby might have a question about payroll and Betty would know exactly what to do. When a customer would call or stop by, Betty would always have the right answer. Not only would she have the right answer, but it was always delivered in the same sweet, polite, manner. I don’t know how long Betty had been with the company but I know it was a lot longer than I had been there, and I had been with them for over fifteen years.

After being there about month, the outside office conversations slowly became the white noise that anything tends to turn into when you’re around it long enough. One day, as noon approached, the machines from the shop wound down as the workers out back stopped for lunch- just like they did every day. From the office, I heard Abby and Duane get up to leave for their lunch, just like they did every day as well. I heard Abby say, “We’re heading out for lunch, Betty. Be back a little later.” “Oh, don’t worry.” Betty said. “I’ll be here all day.” This, apparently, was amusing to all. Duane and Abby chuckled as they left through the small vestibule.

With Duane and Abby gone, and the machines silent, this was the “quiet time” of the day. A minute or two of silence passed and then, from the outer office came... “THAT’S IT! I’ve had it with this effin* place! This is B.S.*, I’ve had it, I’m movin’ to Florida. I can’t stand this effin place anymore! Who the eff do they think they are? Eff them! Eff this place! I’m done! I’m outta here! I’m going to Florida! Efffff this!” ( *Betty was using the expanded form of “Eff”. Same with “B.S.”)

What the hell was going on out there, I wondered. Did someone come in? Who’s she talking to? I sat in stunned silence for a minute, afraid to make a move. Finally, when I thought it was safe and I started to exhale, it started all over again. “Eff them and their effin’ three hour lunch! This is B.S.!” ...and on it went.

When it finally seemed to quiet down after the fourth or fifth time, I worked up the courage to take a peek into the office to see what was going on. Barely leaning into the doorway, I could see no one was there. No one except Betty. Was it possible that she didn't realize she was saying those things out loud? Did she know I was still there? It didn’t look like it, but who knows?

This performance kept up for the whole “effn’” three hours, until Duane and Abby came back from lunch. “Anything happen while we were out?”, they asked as they sauntered by Betty’s desk. “”Nope,” Betty sweetly replied, “It’s been pretty quiet.”

I began to wonder if this really happened. It was like a switch had been thrown. The rest of the day, or what was left of it, played out like the morning- uneventful and, well, normal.

The next day, it was the same thing all over again- as it was the day after that, and the day after that and on and on. Why had I never heard this before? Was there some probationary period going on when I first moved in?

After several months, I moved on to another company and I lost track of Betty- until some five years later when we talked outside of CVS. She asked me how I was doing and I told her. I asked how things were going for her and apparently they were going pretty well. Yes, she was still working at the same place, but not for much longer it seemed. She had made up her mind. She was going to be moving to Florida. I acted surprised- not being sure if I was supposed to be aware of her rants from the years before. I told her it sounded great and wished her luck.

That was the last I saw of Betty until the other night. There she was at the grocery store, surveying the fruit. I felt like I should have been surprised to see that she was still around, but I wasn’t. I watched her as she seemed to be checking out each and every orange and I can only guess that she was thinking about how much better the oranges must be in Florida.