Susan

Susan didn’t believe in using staplers.

“There’s something too permanent about it, don’t you think?” she remarked to Dave, who had been lucky enough to be stopping by the coffeemaker concurrently to her lunch break for the third time this week. It was only Thursday, but Dave was already ruminating about his hair appointment, which was coming up on Sunday. He hated having his hair cut.

“You can still always take them out. You know with those little tools that look like the plastic vampire teeth you wear for Halloween.”

“It’s not the same. That leaves a rip in the paper where the staple used to be. It’s better to use a paperclip, that way you can always undo it without leaving a mark.”

“I suppose it is.”

“Although maybe sometimes it’s better to bind things that way. I’m not saying there’s NEVER use for a stapler. But.”

“Yea. I get what you’re saying.” He sipped his coffee.
“…Any big plans for the weekend?”
“Not really… I’d better get back to my desk. Big project to finish up.”
Susan sighed and gently nodded. She wondered if Dave considered her a friend. She

wondered if Dave had any friends at all.

“Some people are beyond saving,” she thought to herself. Not that he was a complete weirdo. But she wondered why he wasn’t more friendly. Then again, she preferred Dave’s measured responses to Katie’s indomitable ramblings or Mark’s cookie-cutter small talk. Sometimes she felt like she was the only one in the office with any sort of real personality. She wondered if everyone else there also felt that way. They must. Maybe that’s what’s making breaking the ice so difficult. She shook her head and took a bite from her burrito. No use in thinking about things you can never understand.

She could hardly wait to be off for the afternoon so she could see her girlfriend. She should think of something clever to discuss with her over their premeditated post-work margaritas. Maybe that stapler thing? Claire would have something fun to say about that, she was sure. Claire could talk about anything. Susan believed her to be the original source of all the joy and intelligence in the world. Despite that, Susan never worried what Claire thought of her; she knew Claire would always be forthcoming if she did or said something self-righteous or insensitive. And not in a mean or jokey way. Claire had a mild manner, and an appreciation for the irrelevant and absurd. It was why Susan always felt comfortable being her irreverent, quasi-childish self around her. If the stapler thing wasn’t interesting, maybe they could talk about Dave. Or any of the marvelous adventures Claire got to go on this week with her summer camp job.

Beep beep.

Uh-oh. Lunchtime’s over. She wrapped up the remaining quarter of her burrito and silenced the alarm on her watch. As she walked back to her desk, she imagined combining this quarter burrito with all the other fractioned burritos from this week to make one big ol’ Frankenstein burrito. Tasty.