I dwell in the lowest strata of society. While I was about to leave, the asshole called out my name. I was on a call, a useless call with a middle aged woman and we were not talking about why things go the way they go and other trivial matters. The asshole didn’t notice I was on a call or maybe he did and decided to continue to be an asshole and shouted my name while standing right behind me. I was sitting on my revolving chair and looking at the screen in front of me and there was a pen in my hand. Its cap got lost some time ago. It is running out of ink. The ink is blue in colour and blue was the pen cap but now it is gone. I have other pens that have caps and the lady spoke for about 15 minutes or so and I spoke for about 5 minutes and then I cut the call saying Thank You because I had nothing else to say at the end of that call and I was definitely not thankful to her for anything. She said what she was programmed to say and my responses were civil and they sent me in immediate shock but I continued to talk normally and listen to her standard gibberish. The asshole stood behind me and coughed and cleared his throat all that while like he was sick or something. Men like him don’t ever fall sick. They only take advantage of their aging to fool the young ones and throw them in the grinder. The asshole didn’t care what I was speaking about and to whom I was speaking. It rained heavily outside and I was pretty tired by that time and wanted a drink and it looked like it would rain a lot more and I couldn’t not think about not being able to go to the beer shop and replenish my stock. The revolving chair came last year and since then, it has been revolving but not as much I thought it would. I cut the call and revolved 180 degrees and looked towards the asshole and it was really him standing there and he hadn’t moved an inch from his place of standing. He was standing like he had something important to say. I looked the asshole in his eyes but said nothing. It was time to leave for home.
‘Search a name,’ the asshole said pointing his index finger at the screen in front of me. I said nothing and did the search. He didn’t want anything with the name or that man whose name it was. You can be an asshole for no reason. The asshole wrote down the name and his cellphone number on a scrap of white paper with a pen that too had blue ink and then he walked away a little and then turned and walked to me and then he turned again and finally walked away and out of the room. I packed my things which were nothing much and I left some time later. The screen blipped to black. The loud beep of UPS batteries continued echoing inside the dead room, hinting at the absence of men and their voices.
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