"Did you just leave another birthday message?" the kid asked with his coffee in hand.
"Yes," I said stepping out of the quiet room of the office. Every other room had walls seemingly made of paper. If you sat quietly while there was a meeting going on in the adjoining room you could hear almost everything down to the typing on the keyboard.
I had a friend who had access to the mother's room in the office. When we were sure it wasn't busy I would swoop in and record a song for a friend and send it via text. I did this when I didn't have time driving in in the morning. I liked to wait until afternoon because sometimes the morning voice didn't cut it.
Lately I was so deflated in the evenings that they would know my heart just wasn't into it.
"That's nice. I only have a few people who remember my birthday," he said taking a swig of his afternoon pick me up. "You must get a shitload of calls and texts on your birthday."
"Funny you should mention that," I said watching the blue bar slowly crawl across my screen. "I had about five people who reached out to say happy birthday this year."
"Five?" he said choking back a cough. "You leave two to three messages a week. I think I've heard you call three people in one day. How does that happen?"
"I've been off twit/face/sound/space for a while so people tend to forget. Most people wait for a hint from social media then they chime in. The only place I might be lower on the totem pole might be here."
"That's some sad shit," he said leaning against the wall. "It's almost like you're a second class citizen. When is your birthday anyway?"
"It was a few months ago. I was actually at a wedding with people who had no idea. I had given them hints a few weeks before but no one caught on. It was a wedding. I didn't think much of it. My Mom and my sister remembered. That's all that mattered.
"How's the coffee?" I asked hoping to change the subject.
"Almost as shitty as the people who don't call or write to you on your birthday. Well happy belated birthday."
"Thank you and happy birthday to you, too." He looked surprised. "Don't be shocked. It's this weekend. They post the office birthdays in the kitchen near the coffee machine. They feel it will increase office morale."
"I never noticed it. Thanks." Said the kid as he walked back to his desk.
I had one more message to send. I scrolled back through a few years of texts to see if they had wished me a happy birthday in the past. I saw that I was always the wellwisher.
I decided to just send a quick HBD message. After that last conversation I was so deflated that if I tried to sing they would know my heart just wasn't into it.
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