You know what’s weird? No? Let me tell you. What’s weird is when people come up to you when you’re sitting at your desk, quietly doing your work, and they just STARE. They stand there, and they stare at you for what feels like five minutes, or perhaps an eternity, before asking you what they came to ask. I personally don’t enjoy making people feel like they want to crawl out of their skin just to get away from me, so I don’t do things like that, but apparently some people think that is an ok way to act, like the guy that just did it to me.
But that’s the kind of thing that happens to me every day at my job, just because I sit at the front desk of my workplace (not for long, suckers! It’s Promotion Day 2010 soon!) and have more opportunities than most for creepy encounters.
Riley and I have named a spot in my apartment “Creepy Corner” because my cat Gatsby goes there and stares at Riley like he is plotting to kill him. He probably will one day with his tiny razor claws and teeth. Sorry Riley, that’s just the way it is.
Today I named my desk the “Creepy Corner” of my office because so many creepies gravitate towards it and me. The following story is more about a crazy than a creepy, but I experience both on an almost daily basis.
One day when I first started working at my current job, a crazy-looking bus driver came into the building. They come in so they can use the bathroom, and most of them are pretty nice. One even invited me to a party at his house, which I thought was weird, but that’s beside the point. ANYWAYS, on this particular day, Mr. Weirdo Bus Driver walks in. First of all, he looks a bit like this guy (Phil Spector) but with chappier lips and bus driver clothes instead of whatever the hell Spector is wearing:
Second of all, he says to me, “Can I use your phone?” At the time, I had just started work there and I wasn’t aware that my supervisor didn’t want me to let other people use my phone, not even for life-threatening emergencies. So I say hey sure go ahead. He picks up the phone, dials a number, and says, “GREENSBORO.” I am like ok, fine, whatever. The next thing that he says is…”BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN.” In my head I start laughing really hard. I am laughing so hard that I fall off my chair and hurt myself on the filing cabinet and curse loudly, in my head not in real life, because this dude is totally ordering tickets from Ticketmaster for the upcoming Bruce Springsteen show…on my phone, in a place of business. Granted, not everyone has a cell phone. Maybe you’ve been living under a rock for the past decade, or maybe in a third world country, or maybe you’re this bus driver guy. In any of those cases, you probably don’t have a cell phone. But you do know who Bruce Springsteen is, because who doesn’t?
He goes through a few more steps in the automated system, and then my supervisor emerges from her office and says, “Hey! What are you doing?!?! I was trying to call her on that phone and she didn’t get my call because YOU are tying up the line.”
Here is my favorite part: he says in a voice that shows he is CLEARLY inconvenienced by her presence,
exCUUUUUUSE me. I am TRYING to order TICKETS for a ROCK. CON. CERT.
It was undoubtedly the best thing that has happened to me while working at the stupid front desk, and if that isn’t rock and roll then I don’t know what is. I wish there was a better ending to this story than the real ending, which is that the bus driver walked down the hall to the bathroom after my supervisor made him get off the phone. Like it would be better if my 5’2″ supervisor whipped out a switchblade and stabbed the guy and said I WON’T TAKE YOUR INSOLENCE, NOT NOW, NOT EVER!, or if he suddenly ripped his skin open and The Boss himself stepped out and said HEY MAN BUY TICKETS TO MY ROCK. CON. CERT. Neither one of those things happened.
Lately, the infamous bus driver comes into our building and says, “Well here we all are again…” in an Eeyore kind of voice. And it makes me laugh because such a strange person exists on the face of this earth, but it doesn’t make me laugh as hard as I did at the Springsteen Incident of ’09.
Side note: if I hear one more person say, oh my gawd I can’t believe it’s already the end of March! Or, isn’t the weather beautiful! Or, you should move your desk outside and work, haha! I will scream. Stop trying to engage me in conversation. I don’t want to talk to you or anyone else three hundred and thirteen times a day about the weather, or the passage of time, or moving my desk outside, which by the way, would be really effing hard considering it’s BOLTED TO THE GROUND.