speedo's and birth control

I could use a long hike, walk, something outside. I'm eating left-over stir fry in the company lunch area. I pick a hair out of my food. Four women bumble and stumble through gossip at the table in front of me. I alone occupy my gray table for four. My three black plastic chair companions bore themselves.

"Birth control."

I'm on the verge and need to finish. Someone just buy our condo and we'll be off.

"Speedo's."

I'll have to go out to Starbucks, not for the coffee but for the outside world. Should we become accustom to this? The three of them lean in, whisper, giggle and lean back. They wonder about me. What's he writing? What department is he in? Is he doing work? Melanie asked him what he was writing but he never really answered. We should steal his notebook. Take a peek.

"Dawson's Creek, Lord of the Rings."

It's quiet now, the chattering ladies have disappeared back into the gray maze. I won't see them again today.

He's a tad unsocial isn't he? Well he always sits alone, reading or writing. I don't know, he's pleasant enough when I've talked to him. Ya, he can be almost chatty with me. His wife's a photographer. I may get her to do some portraits of the kids.

Really? A photographer? And the unsocial husband is a practicing recluse?