Defenestration

Doug kept making a strident errrrt sound every time he stopped by Alice’s cubicle to deliver a message.

It was like, Errrrrt! Hey, Alice, did Megan already talk to you about the new project?

Errrrrt! Alice, do you need anything from the supply closet?

Errrrrt! Alice, would you like a raspberry scone?

Doug did this every day, several times a day.

Could Alice live with Doug’s grating mouth noises? Probably. But this habit of Doug’s was really starting to get under her skin. Atop all the other pressures and stressors of Alice’s life—her mortgage, her dog’s health, next week’s asteroid impact—Doug’s lower-face sounds were a bridge too far. She had to say something. But she would be patient; she was nothing if not patient. She would wait until the next time Doug—

Errrrrt! Hey, what up, Alice? Can I borrow a paperclip?

Alice put down her raspberry scone and swiveled to face Doug.

Doug, I need to talk to you about something, she said.

Oh right, OK, can I have a paperclip? said Doug. Haha. I’m never going to give it back.

No, it’s not that, said Alice. It’s that sound you make whenever you stop by my cubicle.

Sound? said Doug.

Yes.

I make a sound?

Doug, yes, said Alice. Yes, you make a sound. Every. Damn. Time.

I guess I’ve never noticed a particular sound, said Doug.

Well, walk away for a second and then come back, said Alice. I’ll show you.

Doug walked to the end of the hallway and then whirled. It was a pretty good whirl. Alice hadn’t expected Doug to whirl so well. Hell of a whirl, thought Alice. Then Doug walked back.

Errrrrt! OK, there you go. Done. That good?

Did you hear it? said Alice.

Hear what?

That sound! Jesus, Doug. That errrrrt sound.

Oh, the errrrt sound! said Doug. I thought you meant some other sound. The errrrt sound is just the sound of me stopping. It’s me applying the brakes to my perambulating ass.

Please don’t take this the wrong way, Doug, said Alice. But could you not do it? Could you not make that sound?

You want me not to make that sound? said Doug. I don’t know…

Please, said Alice. It’s just…I can’t take it anymore. It’s too much.

I…it’s a little risky, but I suppose I could try, said Doug.

Would you? said Alice. That would be great, Doug.

So you don’t want me to stop coming by your desk, said Doug. You just want me to stop making that sound.

Well, let’s just start with that, said Alice. Baby steps.

OK, said Doug. I’ll see you later then!

Doug went away. About an hour later Alice saw Doug approaching from the north.

Hi there, Alice, he said as he got close to her cubicle. See? It’s no prob—

Alice could only watch, with mouth agape, as Doug slid right past her desk and crashed through the window at the end of the hall.