Once a year it always awaits
That small grey booth with one window
Placed disconcertingly at the back of my head
As I sit down in the ageless brown vinyl jump seat inside
The surprisingly heavy sound insulated door snicks shut
Magnets holding it firmly closed
Just touching my right side
An indication of the pounds that I've gained since last year
On a drunken octopus double hook
Mounted on the sound deadening wall in front of me
Hangs headphones that have sat ten thousand heads
Throwbacks to the old 1970's Catholic School learning lab
Hard plastic ear cups attached to silver steel adjusters
No comfort for this old man at his annual hearing test
Waiting for the old canned voice over to initiate the rote exam
I stare mindlessly at the grey wall before me
Pin pricked by a million needles
If I stare deeply enough the points will swim before me
Trying to form a hidden image
That will never come
Years ago
There was a pinup picture
Of a redhead in a swimsuit to gaze upon
Though those days are long past
Down a dusty rabbit hole of human resource rules
I almost jump when the voice finally sounds off
Giving brief instructions to press a red button whenever I hear beeping
Before silence descends inside my little soundproof box again
I know I won't hear the first few rounds of beeps
I haven't for almost 20 years now
As turbine engines and rivet guns have seen to that frequency range for me
Soon enough
I hear what I can hear
And I press the button as required
Until it is another year down
And another year to go
Until I have to come back again
Older
Slower
And a tiny bit more deaf
Than in the years before
