Balance

The midday sun shines through the window that spans the length of the room. I stand and walk to the window, quickly lower the shade halfway to everybody’s relief as we now can all see again. I can feel my stomach turn as I glance to the clock at the other end of the room, 11:30, the promised, or rather scheduled, lunch break - it is supposed to be delivered from local sandwich shop. All of the locals in the meeting have been raving about the place all morning - there is no way it could ever meet those expectations.  

I spot the lunch cart at the door as I return to my seat. I am farthest from the door (and meeting presenter), so there will be a wait for food. I sit back as everybody grabs a box - a box lunch in an actual box. A hush envelopes the room, soft noises of chewing and opening packages. I pull the sandwich out and take a quick bite, when have I ever been this hungry. My eye catches my manager sitting directly across from me - he is sitting back with sandwich in one hand and his drink resting in the other, his hand is outstretched, palm open, the cup is in the middle of the hand. Who holds a drink like that? I quickly do a visual survey of the rest of the group, cups in normal places, no palms. 

The lunch break ends with everybody reconvening in their previous seats, munching cookies, my manager enjoying one as well with the cup sitting precarioulsy in the same position. I look around, does anybody else see this? The rest of the meeting crawls, but I remember nothing as my mind is sidetracked by the cup. I finally text a friend on the other side of the table “what is going on with Brian’s cup?” I watch as he reads it, followed by a quick glance over followed by eye roll, we both cover our mouths to laugh. I remember nothing else from that meeting except the cup.