I swear.

About 3 months ago, the company I work for moved offices. We were all quite excited to move into a new complex and a suite that was approximately 3 times the size of the offices we then occupied. It seemed idyllic. Newness abounding. Optimism exceeding rational bounds. It was *only* 2 miles away! This meant moving our things would be relatively easy and cheap. Wonderful! Hooray!

Have you ever gone house hunting or apartment shopping and toured a place during the day and thought, "This is really fantastic! Everything I could have hoped for." Only to drive by a few days later during the darker hours of the day and seen a dramatically different side of the neighborhood? This is a big tip for first timers. Definitely do the night-time fly by.

Indeed our office is now in a prime location. It is, as it turns out, a very convenient cut-through for all kinds of folks on their way to and from wherever it is that all kinds of folks may find themselves to be on. All kinds. Happily, I also learned tonight, after working a very long day...12.5 hours... that it is a very well patrolled area of town. I discovered this in the most ironic way possible.

It is very dark in our parking lot. There is a lot immediately in front of our office, and another farther away across a little ditch and under some trees. It is even darker. Now, I am not afraid of the dark in and of itself. However, when I feel that there may be people out there in the dark that want to hurt me, rob me or call me bad names, that does make me a little skittish. Remember that my favorite animal in all of creation is the squirrel. This is because I feel we have much in common. But not to get too off point here. I was leaving my office, it was dark and unfortunately I had parked all the way across the ditch and under the trees. I set the alarm for our office, quickly locked the door behind me and started my way to my car. I bounded over the ditch and used my remote to unlock the doors before I got there and quickly got in. Phew.

Before the car door was even closed, I heard the rev of a large engine and saw a police car flying through the parking lot. "Thank God!" I thought. "I got into my car just in time. There must be a crime being committed somewhere nearby. I mean their lights are on for crying out loud!" Just then I saw a second car come out of nowhere. Strangely, they weren't continuing through the parking lot, but instead coming up the hill...towards me?

For no particular reason at all my heart starts pounding.

In disbelief I watched as they both sped up, lights whizzing around blindingly. It dawned on me that they thought I! Me! I was a criminal! Hah! Really! This is too unbelievable. I turned off the engine and put my hands up where they could see them. I wanted them to feel very comfortable and to be absolutely certain that I am a big fan of the show COPS and definitely didn't intend to resist. The first officer to the door is a woman who looks kind enough. She asks me to put down my window. I realize that my car is off, so the window won't go down, reach for the key... "Or open the door!" She quickly suggests in her kindest tone.

She asked me for I.D. Registration. "I work in those offices right there," I pointed plaintively. "Suite 316. I just finished up." She asked for a business card. I thought, "Brilliant! I just put those back in my wallet last week!" I proudly announced, "Yes! I have one right here!" handing it to her confidently. But as soon as it left my hand, I remembered that in fact, those cards were printed about 5 months ago. Yes, 5. Before we moved. Ugh. "We just moved! We used to work down the street, but we moved here just a couple months ago. You can look, our logo's on the door!" (Please know that the exclamation points here are really for excitement, and not to indicate volume or anger.) Then she wanted to know if I had any weapons, drugs or anything illegal in my car or on my person.
Hah! Really?
Really. Hm. "No. No I don't," I replied after carefully thinking about whether or not I had any such thing in my car. I hoped the hesitation didn't seem suspicious.
Did I mind if she searched my car or my person? (Another hopefully not too suspicious hesitation, then) "No. I don't mind." I was obviously pleased to step out of the car so that she could, in fact, perform said search while her partner asked me to step to the back of the vehicle for my frisk. Have to say, I've never been frisked outside an airport before. It feels much more exhilarating in the open air. You should try it sometime. He asked if I had any sharp objects that might poke him like knives or needles, or if I had any drugs on me. I didn't hesitate at all there.
I was truly pleased to hear when she read my license number over her radio that CB-talk necessitated her to include the word Whiskey in her transmission. I will from this point forward proudly bear my FL state driver's number knowing it includes the possibility that people have to say Whiskey.

They both asked me, "You work here?"
"Yes, right there, suite 316."
"Why were you running?"
"Honestly? Because I'm scared to work here after dark. It makes me nervous."
"Yeah, well you should park closer to the building."
"Well, I didn't plan on working this late when I got there at 8:30 this morning."

The woman examines every inch of my interior and honestly, I'm not kidding, I'm thinking, "Jeez, I wish my car wasn't so cluttered. I should really throw more trash away so I look less suspicious."

"You know you guys scared me to death when you came up this way."
"You shouldn't run across the parking lot."
"Well, like I said, I'm scared to work here late."
"Yeah, well, it looks really suspicious. You know we got closed businesses here and a guy running across the parking lot. You shouldn't do that. We got all kinds of dope dealers like to cut through here...people livin' in the woods here...I just looks really suspicious."
"Well, I guess I'm just really glad you guys are here! I mean that makes me feel a lot better!"

The nice lady came over and said, "Alright. You can go."

I put both my hands, palm-out, in front of me and said, "Thank you. Really thank you both so much!" I got in my car and they both sped off as fast as they had come in, but this time stealthily, lights all off and going around behind the building.

I got in my car and started it up and drove carefully home observing every stop light and speed limit like my life depended on it. It's amazing how much you can feel like a criminal after being mistaken for one.

Moral of the story: Don't run in the parking lot after dark. It makes you look like a dope dealer.

Tonight I would like to thank Amber Bock for making this post possible.

Cheers.

Tomorrow we head off to Sanibel Island with some friends for a weekend at the beach. Thank God. It's going to be a good time. Mel's missed the beach the last several years, so we're quickly trying to make up for lost time. Growing up a Florida girl makes being away from sun and sand something like depriving a plant of light and water. It's just not healthy. I on the other hand am from Ohio. That's not to say that I don't like the beach, but it's certainly not in my blood the same way it's in hers. Most of my memories of the beach growing up are on Lake Erie at Beulah Beach Camp. Yeah. The "North Coast". That should really explain a lot about my basic outlook on beach trips. But, 3 years in FL has slowly transformed my opinion into a positive one. Enough so that I am eager to go tomorrow and enjoy the time.

Cheers for sandy blankets and sunburn.

We will join today's program already in progress...

Today I am re-learning something about myself.  I have always been told I am very flexible.  I'm not talking in the Gumby, twisty, freaky sort of way... I'm talking about scheduling and whatnot.  Sometimes this works in my favor, sometimes not.

When I make plans with people to go to a movie at 7:30 at the Regal Cinemas near my home, and then go to Bruster's and get some black raspberry ice cream, I get excited.  And then, when my friends call me at 7:00 and say that in fact we're going to go to some one's house and play Settlers of Catan at 8:00 while watching Antiques Roadshow and having chips and salsa, I can quickly get as excited as I was for the original plan.  It's just in my nature.  (Disclaimer: this is not the case if it is opening weekend of a major release that I've anticipated for more than a month)

However...when at work and responsible for scheduling the times and dates for recording sessions for 4 teams of people...and the times and dates of said sessions change on a daily basis, frequently causing the conflict of said sessions, my flexibility becomes greatly decreased.  I believe I may have discovered a reason why.

My flexibility is based out of a belief that there is/should be some norm or standard from which to deviate.  This norm is not always stated, discussed or published in reality, but it exists in my subconscious and it sets of large red flares when situations similar to that described above occur.  Spontaneity in my mind implies a schedule, whereas moment-to-moment changes in direction can simply only be described as chaos.

In short, I am able to thrive and flourish in an environment of spontaneity, but chaos is not an ideal working situation for this humble recording artist/videographer/writer.

I feel this is good for me to know.  If it's helpful to you... I'm glad for that too.

 

End.