The summer is here, and I’ve made a concerted effort to leave the office by 6 pm so that I am home for some outdoor fun with the kids- taking a walk, bike riding, etc. After just 3 days of this time together, the boys have been much more enjoyable to be around and much more attached to me – especially Carter, my 6-year-old.
So, the boys are getting ready to visit my in-laws for a long weekend and we are laying across my bed talking about the trip, and Carter says, “ I don’t want to go, I want to stay with Mommy. I want to play with Mommy, I want Mommy to go with us, I want…” and Jonathan says, “ I want a Popsicle!” Ah, a child’s unconditional love.
The next day I get to the office - stay with me, I need to set the scene- and I sit in my all-glass office just off of the elevator by a front desk supposedly manned by my “assistant” (anyone who knows me should be laughing by now). I am frequently on the floor by myself, so I ask that he always close the door when he leaves the floor.
OK, back to the story – I am on the phone with a colleague and I see that my assistant has walked away, the front door is open and a stranger is walking the floor from office to office…into my office. Yes, it is glass, I am on the phone and my door is closed. Well, this young man in a suit, 3 sizes too large, eyes askew, an obvious brain injury (he has a dent), and carrying a BIG dirty red backpack walks into my office and announces loudly, “I am here for the interview!” Then takes the BIG backpack from his shoulder and pulls out a chair and sits down. (What is in that bag?). Just as he launches into his ‘interview for an unknown company at this address’ (I asked) my phone caller tells me that she has to go. I am thinking NO, NO! You can’t get off of the phone; there is a potential killer in my office. I need a witness in case something happens to me, and something might because I am not conducting interviews. Instead of saying that and alerting the PK (potential killer) of my fear, I franticly try to keep her from hanging up, yet maintaining a smile for the PK. “No, you don’t need to go. Didn’t you say there were 10 things you needed to discuss – we’ve only covered one.” To this, she says, “no I’m good, thanks for your help, need to go through security” In desperation, I say “ Priscilla needs us to discuss her presentation” (this is a ridiculous statement because Priscilla died in 2003), so I’m hoping that she picks up on it and will ask to call for help or at least stay on the phone. No luck – “I’ll call you when I land” Click. Think fast – he’s still here! All I can think is I’ve finally gotten to a place of almost work/family balance and this crazy PK has walked into my office! That’s perfect – of all of the offices in this busy city how in the hell did he find mine? Why? What will happen to my boys if he starts shooting? Mom, irreplaceable.
I snap back to reality, the BIG backpack still on the floor and he starts his “interview” with “My reading, writing and math are basic but I want you to show me how to be an administrative assistant. (What is in that damned bag?). I want to make between $30,000 and $50,000.” My assistant finally comes back and I introduce the candidate, then I call HR to ask if they actually put the office address on the job posting. Based on their answer, I tell my assistant to give the candidate HR’s contact information for follow up.
As I reflected on the day this encounter made me terribly sad – as bold as we think we are, the reality is that the world is a dangerous place and we can’t take anything or anyone for granted. There are so many people who need work but who aren’t willing to put themselves out there, yet this young man who, with all of his issues, was not only willing to put himself out there he knew exactly what he wanted. And it was definitely, not a Popsicle!
I get home and I’m exhausted- doesn’t matter to anyone but me because Carter and Jonathan are waiting for me to go bike riding. As we turn the corner on our neighborhood one-mile bike ride, I realize what I want… A Popsicle!
