Assumptions, the definition revealed by the word itself
I walked into the gym lobby and sat at the nearest chair. I went to open my journal to write down the thoughts that swarmed during my workout. A man was on his phone. This wouldn’t normally bother me except this man had his phone call on speaker.
“I don’t know Joe, I think it’s fine to change the flooring. I don’t particularly love the idea. If she doesn’t like it, we don’t really have any other choice that I can come up with. I’m sorry man I need you hear today.”
I was aggravated. Why am I hearing this conversation between Joe and the man on the phone when he could cut off the speaker? I tried to make eye contact with Joe to let him know I despised the fact that I knew his name. Joe didn’t look at me because Joe was too swept up in his work conversation. He rocked forward and backward as if he was on a ship. The distraction from writing in my journal transformed into internal torture I wished to release. “For the love of God Joe, you are on speakerphone. Can you at the very least STOP WITH THE ROCKING!”
I imagined myself walking up to Joe, tapping him on his shoulder. “Hey Joe, I don’t want to hear your conversation anymore, ever thought about headphones?”
“Americano and the gouda sandwich.” A woman at the cafe called out towards the lobby. Joe smiled. He signaled his hand up to let the lady know the order was his.
My brain re-calculated. “Grace, you are an assuming ass. Joe probably received his phone call while he was in the middle of ordering his food. He had to take it, decided it was best to walk away from the cafe, and went into the gym lobby. There was no one at the time to distract as you were not yet there. He kept his phone on speaker so he could hear the woman call out his order. While this wasn’t the best gesture, it was the kindest solution Joe could come up with. Joe’s conversation didn’t sound the least bit entertaining. He probably rocked back and forth because he was irritated. You are the assuming, self-centered ass Grace. Geez, you were probably named that not because you are a dancer but because you need to remember to be nice.”
Joe grabbed his food and coffee. He immediately took his phone off speaker and sat on a stool where he scarfed down his gouda sandwich. Joe had to go fix a floor he fixed once all ready.
And me, well, my point of view crashed and burned into egoistic oblivion.