Walking in the Light

I work with HAZMAT.

Well not really. I work with a third party administrator for insurance providers. But the claims department is pretty much a HAZMAT.

Usually we all keep to ourselves. We work on our claims, we stay in our cubicles. We’re a quiet bunch. So it’s understandable that when one of us goes missing, it takes a while for us to figure it out.

So at around 9:45 I hear someone say “Where’s Melanie?”.

Melanie was gone.

We all just kind of exchanged puzzled looks until one of our supervisors Kip came out and solved the mystery.

“She has a stomach bug and she was violently ill. She left about an hour ago.”

The words were not even out of his mouth when pandemonium ensued. All of a sudden, every female in the claims department whips out – out of NOWHERE, mind you – cans of Lysol, bottles of antibacterial sanitizer, alcohol wipes. I blink and all of a sudden everyone has a face mask on. It was downright apocalyptic.

“I will NOT catch a stomach bug!” Melissa says, spraying Melanie’s vacant cubicle until Lysol starts dripping from her computer monitor.

It is at this point where Carrie, the secretary, runs in from the other side of the office, holding a bottle of Lysol in the air and spraying as she dashes between the cubicles, leaving a trail of mist streaming through the air like a ribbon dancer. Meanwhile, Kimberly is spraying herself down – I mean literally soaking her hair in Lysol - and Ginger is crawling on her hands and knees in the break area wiping the floor down with alcohol. You would think it was ebola Melanie had come down with instead of a simple stomach virus.

I mean, I can’t even describe how absurd this was. Every mother in the office called their children at home to make sure they weren’t feeling feverish, nauseous, hot, cold, tired, or hyperactive. Doctor’s appointments were made in preparation for the illness they and their families would inevitably contract.

“But you don’t understand!” Carrie insisted through her facemask. “There are no windows in here!”

I still don’t get the facemasks. Last time I even saw those it was on a news story about SARS.

So now I sit here, waiting for the hazy cloud of disinfectant to settle and the taste of rubbing alcohol to fade, and I just can’t wait for the go ahead to take this face mask off. Because hey, it’s better to be safe than sorry.