We have new tenants in the office building that I work in, who have finally moved and settled in. This is not good news. The parking lot for this office building is NOT big enough, so if you don’t get to the office early, you are forced to either park across the street at the county building illegally, and re-park your car every 2 hours, or find a residential street to park on. During my parking search, I spied two of the new employees of the building. They were standing there, chatting away with their coffee. As they saw my car enter the parking lot, they both turned to eyeball me. I recognized the two of them as the new employees, for I had seen them previously entering the building with boxes of office supplies. They continued to eyeball me as I passed them by. This was quite annoying. No doubt they thought I was “client” of some type. I wanted to open my window and tell them.. “Hey, I’ve been working in this building longer than you! Stop eye balling me!” But I refrained. I really hate being stared at. Well, after encircling the building for about 10 minutes, which seemed more like eternity, I decided to find a residential street and walk the two blocks to work.
As some of you may know, I work for a county office. It’s a probation office where clients are in and out, meeting with their probation officers. The atmosphere around here is pretty positive, but at times, arrests are made, and the reception area can be full of drama. We may have someone walking in who is totally under the influence, loud and obnoxious, and at times, there are people shouting, crying over their positive pee test..etc.. We sometimes find random bottles of urine left in the lobby. Fortunately, I don’t need to interact with these people most of the time; I just get their paperwork from the courts and assign their cases to a probation officer. I can grab my work near the reception office, and then swiftly go back into my locked office. At times, however, I will recognize someone sitting in the lobby.
Santa Cruz is a small town. I was born here, and lived and worked here most of my life. It should be no surprise that I should run into people whom I’ve crossed paths with, now and then. In fact, I work with a woman here at this office that I’ve know since the 7th grade. I may see someone I once knew sitting in the reception area, as a client. I am then put in a position where I have to decide whether or not I should “recognize” them. I’m not being snooty, but this person is waiting to see their probation officer. This is a very personal thing. It’s not my business why they are there. I don’t know if given the same situation, I would want to draw attention to myself. Being on probation is not something to be proud of for most people. So, I let the other person make the decision, whether or not they want to talk to me. It’s easier, and I really don’t like putting people in what could be an embarrassing or uncomfortable position.
Well, today I noticed a tall and thin woman enter the reception area. I immediately recognized her as being someone I may have known before, but I couldn’t place the name to the face. I smiled at her and proceeded back to my office, still wondering who this person was, but immediately stopped in my tracks when I heard the woman call out to me and ask:
“Excuse me, you look so familiar… Do I know you?”
After a few questions of where we both went to school, I finally recognized her as someone from my church youth group, from when I was in high school. Her mother was a youth group leader—a very sweet lady, with an angelic round face. She was a former ballerina—and it was apparent by the way she walked and spoke. She had this elegant grace about her—like the kind you see in someone like Audrey Hepburn. Her daughter, the one in the hallway, was Lisa. I never really knew Lisa very well but I remember over-hearing the other girls comment on how mean she was towards her mother. Lisa often came to youth group dressed all in black, and she was known to be rebellious at times. Unfortunately, Lisa’s life got even more rebellious and she found herself in the criminal system. When I first recognized Lisa’s file, all I could think about was her poor mother.
I asked Lisa about her mom, and she continued to tell me that she was doing well, but changed the subject real fast and wanted to give me a flyer to a fundraiser even she was involved with next month. As she spoke about it, I could smell the cigarette she just must have inhaled. That smoke smell of nicotine was omitting from her mouth was a little overwhelming, and I could actually “feel” it stuck in my throat. I also noticed that she had put too much mascara on that morning, because most of it was now on her eyelid. I couldn't help notice how life had aged her. It was hard to see; especially remembering this woman was only a month younger than myself. I remembered her to be such a pretty girl. It’s sad for me to see how her life’s decisions had really aged her. She asked what I did in the building, and without going into to detail; I told her I was a secretary. No need for her to know that I had seen her file, and knew what was going on. She seems to be now on the right track, and I pray to God, that her life continues to proceed in that direction. We said our goodbyes, and I told her to tell her mother hello for me; although I don’t think her mother really remembers me. I was always the quiet, and unassuming girl in the corner—I don’t think I would have been very memorable; who knows for what reason Lisa did remember me.
On a lighter note, although my coffee was a bit cold, my breakfast (blueberry French toast sticks) was slightly burnt, I was greeted with a 21.1 Oz of Fine Hazelnut Chocolates of Ferrero Rocher sitting on my chair, with a sweet card attached to it. It was from my friend, Maria. You’ve got to love friends who give you chocolate. Thank God for Maria! Although, I think she secretly wants me to expand to a size 20 by the end of the year. These chocolates cannot stay in my work area. They must be taken home, and hidden, and taken out when many people around. I do NOT want to be the only one around with these beauties…
It’s slow here at work. Smart co-workers left early for the holiday. Why can’t I be that clever?
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