I got to work early this morning only to find that the
elevators weren’t working and the fire alarm lights were flashing.
There wasn’t a fire.
But something had tripped up the system and it was now stuck. Which made two of us.
And so I munched on my Starbuck’s breakfast sandwich and
tried to get an idea of how things would most likely unfold. I was there early. A full hour earlier than the Front desk
attendant was to show up.
Well, at least I was indoors and out of the rain.
About 10 minutes later, another person showed up. He too had arrived early to get some work
done. His office was on the 8th floor. Mine on the 7th. He called the
Super. The Super wouldn’t be arriving
for about another hour.
So, my new friend and I—I’ll call him D-- passed the time
talking. Amongst other things, I learned he was one of the Higher ups at his
job on the 8th floor. We talked
about Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys, his little girl who was going through a
stage where she only gravitated towards books with pink and purple covers, the
Diary of a Wimpy Kid series currently being read by his son. We talked about September 11 (he was here in
the City, I was in Graduate school in a different state), and about people
coming together to help each other, he brought up the two major blackouts the
city has experienced since he’s been here and how those experiences inspired
him to set up emergency provisions at his place of work for any future
emergencies.
About 45 minutes into our wait, one of his employees came in
and ended up joining us. Not long after,
someone else from a different floor came in.
This man was quite unhappy about not being able to get to his
floor. Although D invited him over, he
opted to keep to himself.
Finally, the Front Desk Attendant came in and not long after
someone else arrived and eventually, the elevators were up and running again.
We got to my floor first, and after exchanging, “It was very
nice to meet yous,” bid goodbye to D and the gang.
Walking into my office, an hour and a half after I first got
there, I found myself thinking, “What was I supposed to get out of all that
transpired this morning?”(I do that sometimes—wondering why something happened
or what I’m supposed to learn from what has happened.) But on the heels of that
came the answering thought, “Whatever you choose to make of it.” In which case, since there was nothing else I
could have done to get from the lobby to my floor, I’m grateful that I still
ended up experiencing a pleasant enough morning J
And special thanks to D-- many thanks to D-- for helping to make it so J