“Tell me about this new transfer,” a woman in a long blue sweater asked as she held a tea packet in one hand and ripped it open with her teeth. Turning back around to the counter, she dropped the tea bag into a white mug and started to pour steaming hot water over it.
An older women with thick glasses and flat, dull brown shoes leaned on a table behind the other woman. It was just the two of them in the break room, mid-morning, and it was quiet; this was an unusual lull in the usual constant stream of people and conversations around the coffee pot and ice machine.
The older woman smirked, and said, “To start, she has a little bug problem. The last time I was there I saw at least three varieties of bugs crawling across the floor and on her legs. There were even a few in her bed sores, which she insisted on showing me.”
The woman in the blue sweater had stopped pouring water and was turned completely around facing the older woman. “What?” she asked, in disbelief.
Pleased with the younger woman’s complete attention, she continued. “Yes, the client wasn’t even concerned. When I asked her about the bugs, she said they were oriental beetles and that’s why they all looked different.”
She reflected for a second and continued, “As a matter of fact, the bugs have been with her for quite some time. I can remember seeing them at the last two houses in which she lived. She must pack them up with her wherever she goes,” the older woman laughed to herself.
“Oh, and one more thing you should know. Her landlord is mad at her,” she added.
“Why?” the younger woman asked, with a horrified expression frozen onto her face.
“He’s mad because the bugs survived the extermination attempts. Otherwise, she’s very nice. I think you’ll really like her.”