It was an odd question from Wilson, but then again so many from him were on the strange side.
“Are you going to the room for kvetching?” he asked.
I stared at him from behind my lab goggles, puzzled. There were only a few of us back in the office, so in general the kvetching was a bit on the low side these days. I wasn’t quite sure there was a need for an entirely separate room in which to kvetch.
“Which one is it?” I asked.
“What?” he yelled back, struggling to be heard over the Tornadex.
The thing was circulating and blowing air like nobody’s business. I had become accustomed to working in a wind tunnel, Wilson, not so much. He was belted into his chair, per my instructions, but he still appeared terrified, like a dust ball as it enters the vacuum and not quite sure what lies ahead.
“The room, for kvetching?” I yelled, “whose office are we using? I’d like to kvetch even if there are just a few of us there.”
Wilson glanced at the Tornadex and asked “Can I turn that thing off?” He picked up on my hesitation and tried to sell me on the idea. “Just for a minute or two.”
“Only if you promise not to breathe,” I said.
He nodded vigorously from behind his Spiderman face mask so I gave in, unbuckled my seat belt and turned off the Tornadex. The office went eerily silent. It was an odd sensation, probably what miners feel when they come up into sunlight, except without all the blinking.
“What room is the kvetching taking place in?” I asked.
Wilson cocked his head like a dog puzzled by a command. “Huh?” he said.
“You asked if I was going to the room for kvetching,” I said.
“No, I said, ‘are you doing the Zoom call for stretching?’ ”
“Oh, well that’s different.”
“Didn’t you see the email from Roz? She strongly encourages everyone, whether at home or in the office, to participate. She’s worried people don’t have enough opportunities for activity, or exercise.”
“There are only eighteen of us here. We could have a track meet in the hall. I have plenty of opportunity for exercise. Why do I need to stretch?”
Wilson shrugged. “Something to do,” he said.
“So is sitting here with my jet engine Tornadex going wondering how long it will take to permanently deafen me.”
“I’m going to do it,” Wilson said. “It’s probably good to let them know we still exist while they’re all working from home. You know, show our faces.”
I gave it a moment of thought, but not much more. I personally would have preferred a room set aside for kvetching, adhering to strict mask and safety protocols, of course.
“I’m going to go, it starts in five minutes,” Wilson said, getting up to leave.
Wilson left and I sprayed disinfectant on the chair he sat in, and wiped it all down. I flipped the Tornadex back on and turned it to the Search & Destroy setting. Goodbye droplets, aerosols, and particles.
I scrolled through the 6,973 emails from the last two days until I found the one for the Stretching Zoom call.
Hi everyone — We all know what a tough road we’ve had to travel over the last seven months. With most of us still at home and settled into our routines, I realize just how fast the day goes by with work, work, work. So, let’s all GET UP AND STRETCH!
Roz certainly had a way with words, making the mundane sound mundane. I glanced at the link and figured, why not? Maybe it was a good idea. I got up and rearranged the laptop so I could stand in the little space in my office that wasn’t taken up by the Tornadex and all the hoses.
I cranked up the volume on the laptop and hit mute, then fetched one of my straws and stuck it inside the face mask and goggles snorkeling style so at least I could breath during all this stretching.
A few minutes later I was on the Zoom call with little squares of people who appeared to be my colleagues from a lifetime ago.
“What a great turnout,” Roz said, welcoming everyone before turning it over to some guy named Marcus. He was a real life yogi, board certified stretch professional, whatever that was, and a personal trainer.
“Great to see you all,” he said, smiling and full of pep. “Oh, and look, we even have what looks to be an underwater astronaut with us.”
It was a shot at me, and I gave a little wave. It was game on with this guy.
“Can we all check to make sure we’ve hit mute?” Roz asked.
The little squares all nodded, as did I.
“Is someone experiencing high winds?” Marcus asked.
“More like a hurricane,” Roz chimed in.
Maybe a colleague was working outside, I thought. It didn’t pertain to me so I took it upon myself to jog in place, looking to get my blood going. I didn’t want to pull a hamstring, or snap anything once we got started.
“Okay, I’m still hearing it, so maybe we’ll give everyone a few more seconds to double check,” Marcus said.
I upped my speed to a light running in place now, and did a little shadow boxing to get the arms moving.
“Oh yeah,” I yelled over the industrial strength fan and compressor. “Let’s get moving , Stretch Boy.”
I was a little far away from the laptop, and all my colleagues in the boxes were small, but I swore they all had stopped moving and were staring straight ahead at their computers now.
“Who said that, please,” it sounded like Roz, but I couldn’t be sure.
Sweat was coming down my forehead, and there was condensation on my goggles, and now there was an awful thought in my head.
Did I hit mute? I was sure I did, but…
Okay, I was going to have to subtly recheck without drawing attention to myself. I was thinking about how to do just that when the door behind me opened and Wilson came in yelling like the place was on fire.
“You’re not on mute.”
He darted past me in a desperate attempt to save me from myself, but his foot caught one of the big hoses on the floor and ripped the other end of it out of the Tornadex. Now it sounded like we were inside a jet engine.
I went to reach for the hose, Wilson went to reach for the laptop. We collided and both went down. I managed to crawl to the Tornadex and turn it off.
I heard laughing and Marcus’ voice clear as a bell.
“Okay, so the next class is on me, seriously.”