The day began in a peculiar fashion: on the way to work I was on the highway, driving a consistent speed, in the left hand lane, going with the flow of traffic. It’s backed up a bit on the right lanes, because A) the highway planners can never fix the sharp-bend / muddled merge that happens a few miles up. To my left, the HOV lane. A car is in that lane, and draws alongside, then squirts in front of me with little room to spare, then shoulders into the next lane on the right. I think I said “that was stupid,” because it was, and when I pulled up alongside the car I glanced over, and the occupant was yelling at me, castigation gesticulations galore. I think the main problem was that I had looked over, which was a SERIOUS AFFRONT and suggested that I had an opinion about that move when it was none of my business and she had to get over and I should keep out of her affairs. All you can do is cock an eyebrow, shrug and look away. Sure enough, the car attempted to get through clotted traffic to exit, which I’m sure caused a dozen cars to brake, which would ripple back until traffic was snail-on-a-glue-strip slow for a mile.

LATER

Heading down the escalator, looking ahead: A guy’s standing inside the entrance of the building. Odd: it’s not cold out, and there’s no bus stop. He is joined in a moment by a woman, and while neither seem to be part of the building population (excess clothing, bulging backpacks) the addition of the woman somehow increases the legitimacy factor. Which is what? You get an immediate sense who works here, who’s passing through, who’s killing time. There’s a woman I used to see often, just spending her entire day walking through the skyway. Massive matted hair, furtive face. There’s the wiry guys who aren’t sitting upstairs managing reinsurance contracts, but you can tell they’re construction or maintenance. There are the mumbling lopers. You get all kinds outside, but inside the building in the public spaces you get less. It’s just how it all sorts out.

When I get into the entrance area she’s sitting on the floor, and is obviously in a state. Mumbling. Enormous black eye. I ask if she’s okay, if she needs medical attention. The guy, who does not seem to be a threatening type, waves me off. He seems concerned for as well. I walk out to the Small Cigar Area, or SCA, and there’s a gout of barf and what appears to be a not-insignificant quantity of urine. Sigh. Well, let us go in the other direction, then. Shortly after they emerge from the building and jaywalk across a busy street.

Went to the front desk to tell them, more or less, clean-up on aisle 3.

LATER

I was getting into the elevator along with another guy who was going up for a job interview. He asked how the key card worked, and I showed him, and his floor came up - so he was legit. We entered the car, and I asked him what he did on 13, and he said it was a job interview AND SUDDENLY I WAS AWARE OF SOMEONE STANDING NEXT TO ME SHAKING UNCONTROLLABLY

Elastic limbs like electrified spaghetti, two teeth, mumbling something unintelligible. Eventually I made out the word “money” and I said I had none, and we got to our floor, the access controlled elevator space, and she got out, and I had to guide her back into the car and send her down. It was surreal. I took the guy to the front desk and we chatted as if nothing had happened. Hope you get the job! Welcome to downtown!

The damndest day.