Froda

text removed.


#1: Mrs. Roboto


Vanessa inhabits the cublet* beside me. Her car's license plate reads V-Vans. I will be referring to her as V, Vanessa , or Vanny.


We both began on the same day. 08/08/08. I remember stretching out my freshly tanned arm and shaking my boss’s hand, flashing her my crest whitened smile. I was full of hope and devoid of sense. Ten minutes later she shuffled V and I into the back storage room, ushering us to computers placed side by side.


And thus began the unnatural and somewhat terrifying twinship.


In the offices of WV, Vanny and I come as a set. We work in tandem on everything, completing one mundane task after another. We collaborate on grammar & text & changes & technicalities. When I take a swig of my tap water, she swallows. When I get up to pee, she follows.


Inevitably the old socks brand of comfort offered by this symbiotic relationship wears thin. It comes down to this: old V has more stamina than I... or any other human on this planet.


Whereas I leave not a minute past five, she stays for ten, twenty minutes extra to “check her changes.” She takes shorter breaks than I do, she doesn’t leave the office for lunch. I suspect she never leaves at all, and parks in a nearby parking lot to sleep in flashy V-Vans. She chats with duller than dirt coworkers and tries her best to hang with them outside the professional environment. I avoid eye contact and dodge facebook requests. She grins and nods and spouts positive statements. I say, “really?”


I am starting to suspect that Vanessa has a plug. This is the only explanation for her Olympian endurance. She keeps her generator in V-Vans and during one of her many bathroom breaks she heads outside for a recharging sesh. Or maybe she just eats batteries the way I scarf down candy from the secretary's jar. When I leave tonight, in 32 minutes, 20 seconds, I will scope out her car for evidence.


**not a typo. On my first day I erroneously referred to the grey cubicles as “cubes.” My boss informed me of my mistake: “Oh, you been the cublets? The creative development ghetto?” Her words, not mine.