You wander over to chat with Tricia.
You: “Hey, how was your weekend?”
Tricia: “It was fine, how about you?”
You: “It was pretty good. Hey, what’s the deal with that tiger outside?”
Tricia: “What tiger? Why do you smell so strongly of cough syrup?”
Tricia starts inspecting your pupils a little too closely for comfort. You worry she knows too much about your Robitussin habit.
You: “Snitches get stitches, Tricia.”
You turn away from Tricia and find nothing has changed at all in the meantime.
A group of your co-workers are gathered around a table. There are baby-related balloons tied to a string in the corner. The decorations are all in pink. The baby shower fingerprint guestbook you have been thinking about buying stands out conspicuously, as if for product placement purposes.
To your left is Tricia from accounting and Jeff from sales. To your right is Amee, and that new guy Matt or Mike. In front of you, on the table, is a laser pointer. You also see cake, but don’t get your hopes up because that’s not part of the adventure.