Just when I thought I was out…

The girl in the office next to mine has a new boyfriend. This doesn’t really matter, except that her cell phone plays the Godfather theme every time he calls – which is all the time. And we share an air conditioning vent, so I can hear everything. From each kissy-poo over the phone to every secret fart.

In what I can only call an affliction, probably in the neighborhood of Tourette’s, I’m compelled to quote one of the more famous lines from The Godfather every time I hear the ring tone. I can’t stop it. Sometimes I sit in my office, rocking back and forth, muttering the line to myself until her phone rings, then I shout it out through the vent:

“Every time I try to get out, they pull me back in!” I’m getting the quote wrong, too. That’s even worse. I’m getting it wrong and I know I am. Of course, the line sounds better the way I do it, and nobody paid attention to Godfather III anyway. I can say what I want, really. Every time I ask for a Coke, they give me a Pepsi!

What worries me is that I just can’t control myself. A normal person should be able to stop the impulse, right? It’s just that her phone is so fucking loud. So I’m here minding my business and trying to figure out how not to do any work, and then the blaring tones of the Godfather theme echo through the vent. The more I try to control it, the louder I shout out the line. Often after a startled little shudder.

I’ve only been here an hour today and her phone has rung 17 times. We do get to leave early today, but I don’t know if I can make it. Maybe I should try to mix it up a bit. Next time the boyfriend calls, I’ll scream out:

“I know it was you Fredo. You broke my heart. You broke my heart!” Then I’ll stand up on my desk and rattle the vent.