Jane

Jane came over to fix my computer some time last year. She was frail little lady, had eyes that looked like they were trying to take in everything around her (think: intelligent bush baby) and spoke in a way that made you feel...quaint. She wore a chartreuse windbreaker that was far too big for her, baggy blue jeans and a faded pink polo. Her sneakers were worn, their soles unevenly thinned from the way she hobbled/shuffled around.

She hardly smiled, cracking occasional jokes with a deadpan-ness that made you hesitate before you realise that she was being funny, so you weakly offer a nervous chortle.

"It's hanging very badly," she said suddenly while her bony fingers danced on my keyboard, tapping in techy mumbo jumbo that would hopefully restore my programmes.

I apologized, telling her I appreciated the work she was doing even though she could be spending her afternoon doing something else. Of course I had to be the idiot that ignored all the emails prompting me to refresh my password - causing me to be locked out of my own computer at a random time mid-week.

She took her own time, but it was very purposeful, and she didn't say much. I wondered what it was like back in her own office. I had been to the Computer Centre once, and it was just not the Land of Hugs and Warm Food that CorpComms was. I imagined her in a small cube, with hardly anything on her desk except for a flask for tea maybe (coffee seems to severe for her), and not really having anyone else to talk to. Which was, really, perfectly fine for her since she didn't have much to express. Not to the likes of me anyway.

When she was done, I offered her to make her some tea. She seemed surprised, but shook her head. Maybe she was a coffee person after all. She packed up her stuff and left with not much of a goodbye as it was a acknowledging nod.

A couple of months later, I had to loan some scanners from Computer Centre. I waited around for someone to attend to me - even threw a few tentative "hello?"s down the corridor when I heard someone typing away furiously from one of the cubes. The typing stopped. Rude.

I was going to leave the office when, a mouse-y little woman crept up behind the main counter. Jane!

"Can I help you?" her voice cracked. I told her what I was there for, and she ushered me into a large room. She motioned me to sit down, and she took the chair in front of me. She was in the same massive windbreaker, this time with a striped teal polo. She had just gotten a haicut too.

She explained to me the admin process, and left the room to fetch the scanners. When she came back, she had a bag of scanners in one hand and a styrofoam cup in another. She placed the cup on the table in front of me and simply said, "Tea; last time you offer me one."