In case you were wondering, I still adore bike couriers. Luckily working the front desk at a busy building allows me plenty of opportunities to meet and chat with some of SF's finest and get to know their personalities - they range from "I just wanna get high and ride my bike all day" to "I get payed to do what I love" to "Hurry up, I have 75 more jobs after this one, and I've worked 9 days straight to pay my bills." Seventy-eight falls between the latter two. One of his fellow couriers once described him as, "He only has one emotion, aggro." Seventy-eight (and the majority of the other couriers) and I have built relationships with our short and sporadic chats when they come through to the point if I see them when I'm out of the office we holler at each other and they even let me hug them (I've learned/been told that couriers in general are not huggers, but they tolerate my love of hugs).
While I would agree that Seventy-eight could definitely be aggro, he's always been nice to me and made me laugh, and I'm a sucker for a dry sense of humor and a side of sarcasm. It had been a few days since I'd seen Seventy-eight, which tends to be an impetus for me, "Haven't seen them, must ask them out immediately" kind of syndrome; so I sent him a message asking if he'd like to get a drink after work the next day. The following afternoon he replied, "I just got back into town, so I'm going to kick it at my house." The common sense Penelope knows that means he's probably not interested, since there was not counter offer, but the stubborn Penelope that wants to go on a date ignores any logic.
The following week I sent another message - correction as I was thinking about what to send my friend grabbed my phone and sent "Let's meet up" for me. After checking my messages every few minutes, Seventy-eight finally replied, "What are your intentions by asking me to hang?" In real life, I kind of screamed, however my official response to him was, "You seem cool, so I thought a date would be fun. If you're not into it, totally fine, but thought I'd ask." Without delay he said, "I appreciate the compliment and I think you're cool, too. Unfortunately, my girlfriend will kick both our asses if I agreed to a date." Again in real life I muttered, "Then you should start mentioning your girlfriend or post pictures of her because I had no idea" but I kept it cool and replied, "Haha, that's a solid reason. I hate being punched in the face. See you around in the lobby." I kid you not, a week later, he posted his first picture of his lady...either it was a new relationship or he thought, "I must be a hot commodity; better let the ladies know I'm off the market." Either way, we're good and still chat when he comes in to my building, and now the world of social media is aware of his relationship status.
Monday, December 11, 2017
Wednesday, July 26, 2017
Carpenters & Caterers
Working the front desk at a large company means that I get to talk with all kinds of vendors - from deliverers, caterers, to event set up crews - that may be around for a day, week, or regular occurences.
The carpenter was in for a week assisting with an event set up, and I got to know him a bit. He was from the East Coast and had long, unruly hair, a shaggy beard, and the overall style of a nomad. On his third day there, I passed him in the hall when I was taking a break and invited him to get ice cream. I learned that he was new to the Bay Area and builds adorable tiny houses. On his fifth and last day I gave him my phone number and told him to call me if he ever wanted to meet up...he never called.
The caterer would come in almost every Friday, and we'd chat when he checked in each week. He was clean cut with a simple t-shirt and jeans style. One week he mentioned the neighborhood he lived in, and I told him that one of my favorite restaurants in the city was an Indian place near him. The following week I gave him my number and told him I'd love to go to the Indian restaurant with him. He never called and coincidentally he hasn't been back to cater.
Maybe I won't give my number to people that come into work anymore...maybe.
The carpenter was in for a week assisting with an event set up, and I got to know him a bit. He was from the East Coast and had long, unruly hair, a shaggy beard, and the overall style of a nomad. On his third day there, I passed him in the hall when I was taking a break and invited him to get ice cream. I learned that he was new to the Bay Area and builds adorable tiny houses. On his fifth and last day I gave him my phone number and told him to call me if he ever wanted to meet up...he never called.
The caterer would come in almost every Friday, and we'd chat when he checked in each week. He was clean cut with a simple t-shirt and jeans style. One week he mentioned the neighborhood he lived in, and I told him that one of my favorite restaurants in the city was an Indian place near him. The following week I gave him my number and told him I'd love to go to the Indian restaurant with him. He never called and coincidentally he hasn't been back to cater.
Maybe I won't give my number to people that come into work anymore...maybe.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)