The consistency of the speech patterns of the talking heads in the room made Margo’s feel like she had been on a carousel horse in a horror movie for days. She didn’t find anything of interest in anything they said, but still took notes to keep them from looking her direction.
In the corner to her left was Granny knows-it-all with her waist-length, gray, mane that she flipped around to remind everyone that she wasn’t as old as she looked. In front of her was the Impervious Pontificator who could tell you exactly what everyone was doing at any given moment, and how they could improve on whatever it was. The whole order, compiled of those who fit in with the tribe, and two types of outliers; it was easy to tell them apart. Those of the order sat close to one another, in a small tribal council ring, those outliers that wanted to be a part of the tribal council sat nearby. and the rest made up the people who were expected to be there, and those who monitored the tribal council. Then there was Margo.
“Did you get the memo I sent you this morning Margo?” Granny knows-it-all asked.
She turned toward her and said “Yes Coralina, I did, and responded before we all came in.”
“Oh,” she said and tossed her hair behind her shoulder again.
That was enough conversation for Margo, she observed the tree bending outside in the sunshine, that’s where she wanted to be: out and away from this pretentious group of heads.
Margo was short in stature, but not in strength. She was as comfortable in a formal evening gown as she was shorts and a t-shirt, and didn’t give a flying hoot about the rest of the tribal council, or how she would, or would not fit in. Margo didn’t fit into any kind of box easily. She was cramped in this particular box, and she wanted out.
When the last of the chatter had ended, Margo was the first one out the door.
Gracie scooted up close to her.
“Don’t you just hate these meetings? I mean really, how can people spend an hour talking about everything that was talked about in all the other meetings they went to that month and think any of us give a shit.”
Margo laughed, she liked Gracie, who stayed in her proportioned box, until the lid was off and out she flew, like a wasp that had been contained a bit too long.
“This is the tribal leaders way of keeping an eye on everyone, just be glad that it’s all they ask for,” she said.
“I suppose so Margo, but these people waste more time talking about time management than most people use. It seems so counterproductive to me.”
“It’s only an hour, unless you keep talking about how much you hate it for another hour after the meeting is over,” she squinted her eyes and grinned, she knew that would put a stop to Gracie’s rambling.
“Yeah, you’re right. Hey do you want to go over to that charming little bistro that has the sexiest male waiter in town and have a nice hot bowl of soup with me?”
“Thanks Gracie, but I have other things on my agenda for today,” she answered.
“Like what?” Gracie put her hand on her hip. This was her stance for prying information from her friend.
“Like… taking up sky diving.”
“Oh, you, I know you’re scared to death of flying. There’s no way you would jump out of a plane.”
Margo smiled, and said nothing. Gracie knew that was all the information she was going to get out of her friend… for now.