It was close to 3 o’clock on an ordinary Wednesday afternoon. As usual, I arrived at the 5th floor conference room for our weekly group meeting. With a large order of Dunkin Donut coffee in one hand and my notebook in the other, I felt ready.
I was the first and alone in the room, but that didn’t last long. Before I knew it, the 12-foot rectangular cherry oak conference table was filled with chitchat and laughter. Last night’s Dancing With The Stars had quite a few fans in the group. Marty, the head of the group, also chimed in and ignited another round of giggles.
Marty was a typical Corporate America manager: tall, married, and white. He was in his late 40s with an intimidating 6’5” body. Perhaps as an attempt to make people feel more comfortable around him, he insisted on being funny. He took this endeavor seriously as if he was the emerging force to be reckoned with on Comedy Central. His limited joke collection did not seem to concern him. He thrived on his impeccable consistency. He was able to deliver the same story the same way day-in and day-out. When he opened with the first line, I knew exactly what’s next. Just like a classic Broadway show that withstood the test of time, the jokes, although limited, became art.
Unfortunately I was not able to appreciate it. Hearing the same joke for the first couple times was interesting, and then it became somewhat annoying. Eventually I started to wonder if Marty was getting some sadistic pleasure out of it knowing how painful I felt.
So when Marty started the meeting with “well, today is Wednesday. It reminds me of the first time I heard of the term Hump Day …”, I frowned. The first time I heard this Hump Day joke was 5 years ago. I was not even married back then.
The frown was stupid though. I was too senior to make such a rookie mistake. I refused to have the “need to be a better team player” line for my year-end review. So, I lifted my coffee, took a quick sip, and stared at the lid while frowning, giving the impression that I was dissatisfied with my coffee and coffee only. Then, I turned my head to Marty in a fluid motion and laughed with my mouth wide open when he was describing how shocked he was when he first heard the term Hump Day from a rather homely looking middle age secretary lady twenty some years ago. The timing of my laugh was perfect. I was like Barry Bonds looking at a fast ball right down the middle and slamming it out of the park.
As Marty kept going through the story, I started looking around to see how other people were faking it. I was convinced that I was not alone. Jane caught my eyes. She was good. Her slightly forward leaning body and the gently nodding head were synchronized flawlessly. The white teeth and the tiny eye wrinkles depicted a genuine smile. I had to admit that her Oscar-worthy acting performance far exceeded her below-average business acumen. Was that why she was able to outlast many of our colleagues here? I wondered. As if she noticed I was looking at her cross the table, she turned and smiled at me. I took another sip of coffee to gather my thoughts and smiled back amiably.
The time was up. The conference room erupted into laughter after Marty concluded his story. I laughed so hard that tears almost came out. “Good stuff!” I joined the others cheering.
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