The Window - Monday - Nov 10th - 2003
| The Window | Monday, 10th November |
| Hey loyal readers. So I’m back with another exciting entry. I want to just say that these past few weeks have been really busy, and I apologize for keeping everybody waiting. Soooooo… A long time ago in a land far away, I used to work a full-time job. Egads! Say it isn’t true. Well I did, and let me tell you it sucked. I worked on the 28th floor in W-ABC’s storage room in New York City. I knew the job wasn’t going to be fun because a year before I got there a guy hated his job so much that he actually jumped out the window. Anyway, on this top floor of this particular W-ABC building there was this balcony. It wasn’t a real balcony. It was like a large ledge, almost like a sidewalk with a guardrail that encircled the building. My first day I asked the girl next to me if I could go outside, and she looked at me like I was crazy. As if programmed into her head, she stated, “NO GOING OUT THE WINDOW,” and then took out an office memo from her desk drawer, which officially prohibited people from going outside. I continued asking around. Anyone I could find: fellow employees, managers, and mailroom people. From cameras to laser beams, everyone had a different story, and all of them seemed frightened by the unknown consequences if you dared to venture on the balcony. Those of you who that have worked a job they hated can understand the mind-numbing effects. Everyday I would sit at my desk, and imagine myself doing greater things. The window was my salvation. A reminder that a world existed outside of W-ABC. One Friday I worked late. Real late. Everyone left the office, and I was stuck filling out tape evaluation reports, which could be the most boring television job ever. I noticed that all of the lights were off in the building across the street. Curious, I got up from my desk and walked around my floor. Empty. There’s a good scene in Ferris Buellers’ Day Off when he has a showdown with his sister. He represents the free-spirited teenager while she was the frustrated girl who played by the rules. That’s how I felt. All my life I did exactly what I was told: don’t do drugs, don’t mess up in school, do your job. This was my chance to be Ferris. I stood on my desk and yanked hard. Granted, it took me three tries because the thing hadn’t been open in years. It actually just popped, and I remember wondering if I could ever get the window to close again, and how I would explain the reason for opening it in the first place. I stuck my head outside. Barbed wire to my right, but the ledge extended to the left and wrapped around the building. No cameras. No lasers beams. “Don’t think. Do.” I slithered out head-first on my stomach. I guess I felt more clandestine in case there was someone watching me from across the street. Plus, a sharp wind would rush by every few seconds, and I felt more safely rooted to the ground. I pushed myself up using the wall behind me, and took a baby step forward. The view was AMAZING. In addition to the Blimpie’s where I got my chicken sandwich everyday, I could see the entire city. I also had access to everyone’s office. It made sense. Because the company would never actually spend money to make a fortified balcony, someone had the idea to make one up, and have our imaginations set our own restrictions. I carefully walked along the side of the building and sat down with my feet over the side. Twenty-five years of mental repression liberated by the sight of opportunity. --Ferris | |