22 East

22 EAST

OLD TIMES NEW TIMES

Written by Scott Carso

It’s another day in the office. Or will be when, nay IF I make it in today. I’m late. I pick up my speed, start walking more briskly, swaying my arms and legs around so it appears to others I’m in a hurry. You never know who’s watching, maybe my boss is peering down on me from their window, maybe my boss isn’t even there today or maybe they are going to be more late than me.

I don’t even have enough energy to pretend to walk faster after the night I had last. I spill my coffee, losing the only motivator I have to keep walking towards an office I dread and ruining my new jacket. The coffee was steaming, and my skin burns. I just bought this jacket and might not be able to get the stain out. This is the only jacket I have left that meets the dress code of the office.

There were others I had at one time or another, but after a long night on the job they were ruined in other ways. Slashes and tears in coats that cost more than my rent. If I thought long enough I could probably remember, but it’s easier to talk about the money or the spills. Easier than the pain from the trips to the hospital or blood stains that cannot be taken out. The corrosive chemicals required to clean them would ruin the coat. And we can’t have that, now can we? Remember, this is rent money for me here. It would be nice if I could use the little money I do get from this job for my actual rent, rather than for coats that get ruined, regardless of how careful or safe I try to be.

Maybe I got off on a tangent. Is that a bad thing? Couldn’t you argue every thought or conversation or thing to happen was just a tangent idea from a previous thought or conversation? Or even a cultivation of everything that has led to that moment. Every experience, thought, conversation, interaction, dream, coffee stain, and every other thing you have experienced has led you to this moment exactly. It has also led me to be late to work, with skin that is red and burned, a jacket that I can’t afford that I either need to learn how to clean or buy another of, a lack of coffee, and a wandering mind that is distracting me from getting to work, the place that I love to hate depending on the day. Not just for coat money, or rent money, but because I have to go there. That’s where I go, that’s what I do, right?

Come to think of it, I’ve been walking for a while and I don’t recognize any of these buildings. They seem familiar, but I’m not really sure why. All of the signs above the doors are obstructed, I know I’ve been here before. Am I lost? Can one ever truly be lost if they’re following their heart. OK, not the time to go there, I am late for work afterall. I am late, aren’t I? Come to think of it, I’m not sure what time it is. Or how long I’ve been walking. I have a watch on my wrist but it’s broken. It has been broken since it’s been in my possession, if that’s what you could call this. Part of the uniform for the office, or maybe it’s not?

Oh! There’s Tony! I guess I am walking towards the office. Tony is a good kid, always excited to help others with their work. He likes stories, stories of unlikely heroes. I hope he realizes how much of a hero he is when he helps others with their work, with their lives, how nice it is to have someone say hello to you in the hallway, whether it be in the office or during an ongoing existential crisis monologue by someone who’s on their way to an office for a day of work that might be their last. OH! Now he sees me, he talks about some of his ongoing projects, he still has that spark in his eye when he talks about it. Passion, that’s so special, and unfortunately something that can be rare to find nowadays or at least in my office I don’t seem to find it enough.

Maybe that’s human nature, maybe there is a point that our brains decide that the thing we’re now doing is no longer romanticized as it was in our mind but rather becomes monotonous. Maybe it takes years of stress and not being able to see the difference we make. Oops, that was another tangent and I’ve been walking along nodding my head as Tony talks; I hope it wasn’t anything important. Is it better to ask him what he said, politely if he could repeat it or just keep smiling and walking? Wait, now I’m missing the new things he’s saying. Oh, I guess we’re at the office now.

As we both approach the door, taking our last breaths before we enter the dungeon of an office that we both love working in, Tony walks ahead of me and holds the door open for me as he usually does. I can’t help but thank him, not for just opening the door but for being him, for walking with me into the office when I was “lost”, for still being so incredibly passionate about something he’s also been working on for years. Come to think of it, has Tony worked here longer than I have? Have the long nights that blend into weeks and years really warped my perception of time that much? Our boss sees there might be a moment of genuine human connection and feels the need to stifle it by yelling at Tony to see him in her office.

J. James Jensen, one long, alliteration that makes me question if it’s even her real name or just an alias. As Tony walks into her office, I hear her scold him for not doing more work and not having more to offer. Specifically, she wants pictures of these unlikely heroes that Tony praises, lots of pictures. I want to walk in there and tell the good old JJJ how there’s a hero right in front of her doing her a favor while she is asking for more. But, I have a new coat to buy, so today isn’t the day I do that. Sorry, Tony. WAIT my coat, is it still stained?

I decide that stain or not, I am already in the office so I will go to do work until someone tells me otherwise. I keep walking deeper into the office. I do have a desk here, don’t I? I circle around the whole office and don’t recognize any of the nametags on any of the desks as my own. I recognize them and understand most of the references, at least I think I do. But, I guess I don’t need my own office or desk to do work.

Come to think of it, I think yesterday was my last day in the office. Or maybe it was the day before that? That’s right! I haven’t worked here for the past 22 years! Silly me, it’s funny how your own brain can play tricks on you like that. Well I’m sure if I’m still walking in 22 years later and they’re still indulging an old man’s delusions they must be pretty nice after all.

Wait, is this the right office?