Throwing in the Towel
“May blessings fill our home” “Make a joyful noise!”
Jeff was waiting for his microwave popcorn to finish popping. He pulled a couple of extra paper towels off the roll - he hated that feeling of greasy salt against his hands when he reached into the bag - while he patiently awaited the digital countdown.
“Friendship is our most precious gift, to Bestow and Receive”
He’d never paid any attention to the paper towels before. He assumed the receptionist (”Office Assistant,” gotta remember to call them “Office Assistants.” And NEVER “secretaries.”) re-stocked them in the kitchen as needed. This week she’d supplied towels with inspirational sayings swirling across them in pastel ribbons.
“Feast from the banquet of Life!”
Jeff was eating microwave popcorn because, while at 80 cents it was the most expensive item in the vending machine, it was also the most filling. If he had a bag now, and another before heading home at 5:30, he’d be good for the night. He’d done this every day for the past two weeks.
“Rejoice in the Love surrounding You!”
He still hadn’t figured out how to cook since Deb left. She always eschewed pre-packaged dinners and frozen pizzas. Jeff had no idea what to do with a kitchen full of porcini mushrooms and risotto. He wasn’t even sure what risotto was, exactly. Sometimes he wondered if he’d known what risotto was (or did?), maybe she wouldn’t have been so frustrated all the time…He knew she wasn’t happy, but…Still. He’d tried.
Hadn’t he?
“Life is an abundant Symphony!” “May our Hearts be always Full”
Lost in the fluttering sentiments of the Office Assistant’s choice in paper products, Jeff didn’t hear the microwave herald its triumphant “ding.” His head jerked up as the scent of charred kernels reached his nostrils. He just stood there for a moment, swallowing hard.
Without looking, Jeff crumpled the wad of paper towels into the waiting trash can. Some previously lunching co-worker had left a pile of flimsy deli napkins on the table.
They would do.