small talk

My first job after graduating college and getting married was not a good job by any stretch of the imagination. It didn't have anything to do with my major in college. It was what I was supposed to do at that point in my life, but I can honestly say that I have never had a worse job at any other time in my life.

The position was temp data entry clerk. The pay was lousy, the supervisor was sadistically evil, and almost no one in the office knew me or really cared to make eye contact with me. At least that was the impression that I got.

There were a couple of ladies who sat next to me who always brightened my day. One was probably in her mid fifties and the other was probably in her early sixties. We weren't really supposed to take time to talk, but that didn't keep them from striking up conversations. As has been the case many times in my life, they treated me like one of the girls. It kept me from thinking about the lousy job so I didn't complain.

The younger woman talked to me the most because she sat next to me. Once she made me listen to a Prince song on her discman so that I could assess whether I thought it was sexy. She went into great detail about her first failed marriage and other family issues that she had lived through. Once she even complained that one of the other women in the office should be wearing a bra. How do you respond to any of that?

I didn't get as much time to speak with the other woman. I did hear about the llama that she was raising. She also talked about her divorce, but not as much as the younger coworker because she didn't have the same opportunity to do so.

When we didn't have things to type, we would go to the file room to help out where we could. There were a three or four people whose job it was to work the file room. One of these people was a man who looked like he was in his early thirties. He was a very nice man, but he was kind of awkward in a cheery way (if you can imagine that). I really felt for him, but he didn't ever seem to have a depressed approach to life, so maybe he didn't need my pity.

One day while I was filing I heard the conversation below (or at least a very close approximation of what is below) between this man and the older of the women I worked with. It started when she was talking about some run of the mill movie that she had seen recently.

Nice but clueless man: I just saw a movie that you would probably like.
Sixty-something-year-old woman: Oh really?
Man: Yeah, it is called Bring It On. I think you would enjoy it.
Woman: Really? What is it about.
Man: It is a cheerleading movie. If you like cheerleading movies, you would like it.
Woman: (Didn't really say anything.)
Man: It's about these cheerleaders who... (He went on to briefly describe the plot)

I nearly choked to keep from laughing. I couldn't see them because a shelf of files was between them and me, but I couldn't help picturing in my mind what the expression on my poor coworker's face must look like.

I am sure somewhere there was a sixty-year-old woman who enjoyed the movie Bring It On, but I am quite sure that this was not the target demographic for the movie. I am also quite sure that the women I worked with were not the exceptions to the rule who would have liked this movie. If you do happen to like cheerleading movies, though, this may just be a good renter for you.