Duct Tape Really Does Fix Anything

The woman I work with likes to complain. No.... She LOVES to complain. About everything anything that comes across her path. And who does she choose to complain to? If you answered "You" (referring to me) , you'd be absolutely right. This 65 year old woman (To protect her identity, I'll call her "The 65 Year Old Woman"), sits here at the desk with me night after night, jabbering on and on about people who have wronged her and things that have happened to her and foods that she doesn't like and styles of clothing that don't appeal to her. I sit there halfway listening and grunting a half-assed response every once in a while.

"The veal they served me in the cafeteria was cold! And I don't think it was all the way cooked on the inside!" the 65 Year Old Woman grumbled as I sat there trying to study for my college exam. "They never serve anything right and the cook that works in there is such a ragamuffin!"

"Yup", I muttered, barely looking up from my book.

"My stomach is churning and rumbling and it just doesn't feel right", the 65 Year Old Woman continued. "I hope I don't have food poisoning now! I don't think this horrible insurance policy our company has, would cover me getting sick again!"

"Uh-huh", I said, nodding my head in agreement with whatever it was she was blabbering about. I tried to block out her voice and read the words on the page in front of me thinking maybe she'd see I was concentrating on my studying and take the hint, but she continued.

"I declare! These top people at this company get all the good money and leave us little people with next to nothing! What kind of fools do they take us for?"

"Pretty big ones I guess", I said, hoping that would end this terrible conversation. It didn't.

"And furthermore the patrol driver out there hardly knows her job and yet she still gets paid far more than we do!" the 65 Year Old Woman announced in a loud voice, while rocking back and forth in her chair, making it creak noisily.

"How much does she get paid?" I asked. SHIT! Why the hell did I ask that? Now she'll go on for another half hour at least.

"Eleven dollars an hour! Can you believe that?" the 65 Year Old Woman shouted, "We sit here and do more work and know our jobs and don't even come close to that!!" I really needed to study, but I was getting nothing done like this.

"That's ridiculous", I said, standing up and walking slowly to the supply cabinet....

"It sure is! I wish they liked me the way they like her. My bills are so high, I can't afford to even go visit my daughter in Denver!" The old woman proclaimed obnoxiously.

"Yep. That sucks", I said, taking the large roll of duct tape out of the supply cabinet.

"My daughter's husband left her with next to nothing and mmmffffffmmmff..mmm..", the 65 Year Old Woman trailed off into muffled grunts as I wrapped the duct tape 'round and 'round and 'round the 65 Year Old Woman's head, covering her mouth with layer after layer of fresh duct tape.

"Complain about that, you crazy old sow", I said with a chuckle and walked back to my seat to prepare for my exam.