I’ll be there

I am hugely disappointed in how quickly I fell off the schedule I set for myself about writing regularly.  And I don’t even have anything new and exciting to post, so I’m cheating and posting something I wrote many years ago.  This came from a time when I was getting started at Raytheon in Virginia.  I’m not sure why I ever wrote this down, but maybe you’ll enjoy it.

At the peak of my frustration at being jerked around I’m given this simple objective: show up at the Reston facility around 10. At first glance this might seem simple enough. Then take into account the following facts:

  • I don’t know where the Reston facility is.
  • The only way to get directions is to have them dictated to me.
  • I don’t realize that there is more than one facility in Reston.
  • The directions I get are to one of the many WRONG facilities in Reston.
  • I don’t have a clue what to do say or do once I get there…

It’s easy to see that I’m being set up to look like a complete horse’s ass. I hardly have time to think about this as I’m frantically attempting to read microscopic road signs in the middle of construction on a scorching hot day in a car that the air conditioning is really hit or miss (this day it predictably missed…). It’s when I finally pull into the parking space at what I can only guess is the correct building, after showing up at the wrong facility and facing the humiliation of actually in real life not knowing where I was, what I was doing, or what the nice lady behind the security counter could do to help me, that I realize how incredibly degrading this situation is.

And I get pissed, genuinely mad.

And wouldn’t you know that as I’m walking up to the building (closer to 11 then 10), none other than the old man is walking out hurriedly, obviously trying to avoid running into me. Instantly an out of body imagery; I turn into a ninja, complete with pajamas and sword and I’m running along the wall toward him to slice his head clean off. And I’m thinking, man wouldn’t it be hot in that all-black suit running around on the walls? Is that sword really sharp enough to cut a head clean off, if not, that could really be a mistake? Is it legal to be a ninja in Virginia in today’s day and age?

It’s as I’m pondering these honest questions, as well as where this odd ninja inclination stemmed from (not to mention how I would defy gravity all video game-style like that) that I realize from the wrinkled forehead expression and relative silence that he must have said something and by the looks of it, it needs a response.

Oh crap, I don’t have any idea what he just said and he said it directly to me (there’s no one else around). At this point I’m relying on my having been on planet earth 27 years and the experiences that’s granted me to presume it was something along the lines of “there you are” or “you finally made it” or “where have you been”.

Instead of what I’d really like to say (to his severed head comically directing his body where to find its head) I wing it and here’s what comes out, still guessing what he must have said: “Did you know there’s more than one facility in this town…huh?” Followed up with the canned chuckle, shoulder shrug, head shake routine I’ve learned over the years.


What a push over I am.

It has not been edited but probably should have been…  I’ll do better about writing real posts.

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