Crock’s Thoughts

So there I was, sitting at my desk, minding my own business, sipping on my third coffee of the morning—because at this point, it’s not a beverage, but a lifeline. My computer screen was open to a very important revision to an aircraft operating manual (AOM)—or at least, it looked important if you squinted and ignored the fact that I’d been staring at the same paragraph for 20 minutes, daydreaming about my Dagwood-style sandwich resting in my lunch bag. I was in the zone, you know? The sweet, sweet zone of pretending to be productive while secretly plotting my escape to lunch.

Then it happened. Like a ninja creeping out of the shadows, my coworker Dave—Dave, the Question Guy—pops his head over the cubicle wall. He’s got that look, the one that says, “I’m about to ruin your day, but I’ll act like it’s no big deal.” And then he hits me with it: “So, do you have anything going on right now?”

I freeze! My coffee cup hovers midair, my soul screaming internally. Anything going on right now? Oh, Dave, you annoying, oblivious fool. Do I look like I’m hosting a circus at my desk? Am I juggling flaming torches while riding a unicycle? No, Dave, I’m sitting here trying to survive the existential dread of this fluorescent-lit purgatory we call an airport office!

But of course, I can’t say that. No, no, no… I’ve got to play it cool. So I plaster on a smile that’s more fake than the plastic plant in the break room and say, “Oh, you know, just… keeping busy.” Meanwhile, my brain’s yelling, “Busy hating this exact moment, Dave! Busy plotting how to hide under my desk until 5 p.m.!”

He nods like he’s solved some great mystery and says, “Cool, cool… Just checking.”

Just checking?! Checking what, Dave? If I’m secretly a superhero who’s about to leap out the window to save the world? Spoiler alert: I’m not. I’m just a guy who wants to write my next masterpiece of aviation literature in peace, without sitting on the edge of my seat, wondering where his prodding question will lead.

So now I’m paranoid. Every time Dave walks by, I start frantically clicking my keyboard, muttering things like, “Oh yeah, big deadline! Needs to be ready for the FAA today,” just to ward him off. I even considered printing out a fake “Do Not Disturb” sign, but knowing Dave, he’d probably ask, “So, what’s that sign all about?”