Doorknob

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What a day. The supervisor’s supervisor (S/S) was in after not being around for a number of days. I thought something might have been wrong in his life and I still do but I have no idea and my caring is flatlining. One of the things I do at my job is deal with clients who sometimes have appointments, sometimes they don’t.

Sometimes they speak English, sometimes they don’t. Yesterday some didn’t speak English. I used Google Translate and it worked. At 1:55 PM yesterday I had a few clients, including a couple not speaking English. The person they see collected them and brought them somewhere else for their meeting.

Nothing out of the ordinary. I moved on to my tasks as well as managing the remaining clients. Nothing to see here, but apparently I offended someone. I didn’t find that out until this morning when the supervisor’s supervisor summoned me to a meeting ably witnessed by the fleshy doorknob of a supervisor (DKB).

Before I headed to the meeting, I packed my bags. Most of my personal items have been brought home in July and I have a checklist of things that are mine that I do not want to forget. S/S asked me what happened at 1:55 PM.

I answered honestly, saying that I didn’t know. S/S led with some more questions and said that I was rude to someone. I said I had no idea what he was talking about and mentioned that the clockwatchers were certainly doing their job. He seemed proud of the clockwatchers.

I said as far as I knew nothing happened besides helping these clients and it was so inconsequential in the scheme of my work day. I have tasks and I do them, I help clients and make them feel comfortable. I talk to them and sometimes get them to laugh as they’re a little stressed out with their situation as well as the lingering effects of what happened 23 years ago.

I was up against the wall, SS and DKB were pushing me and I pushed back. S/S said I was interrupting him but what the fuck am I supposed to do? I’m on thin ice, three strikes against me. I had no idea what S/S was talking about but I had to defend myself.

I think S/S was hoping for a complacent confession, ‘Yes I did this, yes I did that’ but I still have no idea what he was talking about. DKB did a fantastic job of not saying anything just being the best witness a doorknob can be. I paid him no mind.

The meeting ended in a disgruntled manner. I’m certain my final days are approaching. Then again I’ve been feeling that since July 8. It was a job that I enjoyed going to. I liked the people I worked with and I liked the fact that what I was doing was helping people in an albeit small way.

Perhaps it’s the bookend to the volunteer work I did 23 years ago.

the dreadful stalwarts

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Knotes! I’m stuck for something to write about so I consult the notes.

I’ve taken to wearing a mask on the Path train again. It’s getting crowded, people sneezing and coughing and COVID is still out there. But sometimes I forget and see some other people wearing masks and regret my forgetfulness. Then I wear a mask and suddenly I am the only person wearing a mask. I generally wear a mask in the morning and forget about it on the evening ride home. I must remember not to forget.

The smell of weed on the sidewalks. It’s a strong smell, so strong that it seems fake. I smell it in the morning while walking to the Path train and then in Manhattan en route to the office. I haven’t done that in a long time, smoking during the day. A few years ago I adopted the no smoking until 4:20 PM and held myself to it. Sometimes it’s 4:20 somewhere.

Back in the day, at my first job, guys would sit in a car in the parking lot and smoke for the 45 minutes before going back to the warehouse and operating heavy machinery. No one said anything though it was well known what the guys were doing. When I started smoking I joined them once or twice. They weren’t exciting or erudite and my hanging out with them did not last long.

Not from the notes- I have been hit with a few spam calls. I don’t recognize the number so I don’t answer. When it happens at work, I take the number and call from my desk phone and after one or two rings on the other end, the call is disconnected with a message saying it is a non-working number.

Just now I received a text from Sophia who is looking for her friend Lisa and somehow dialed my number. I respond in German, asking her what does she want. Why is she texting strangers? I tell her to go find Lisa and stop bothering strangers. The German might throw them off. I thought responding in Russian would have been too obvious. Just something fishy…

I walked around Tribeca up to Canal St. My friend Kathy is going on a trip and needs luggage. I noticed a luggage shop at Broadway and Canal a few months ago and today took a walk and took some photos of the spot so Kathy might do some research. I don’t know how the store actually is, Canal St does have a reputation for dodgy goods sometimes. Kathy might be better off going somewhere else, someplace with a better return policy.

As I walked down Canal St, puffing on a cigar I passed some African dudes one of them having a small table set up with some buds in a jar. He noticed my noticing and remarked that I should stop and check it out, ‘It’s better than your cigar’. I waved him off and laughed as I continued meandering around Tribeca.