My Office Building.

My office is as non-descript as they come.

Brown, brick, ugly building.

With a very strange smell that reminds me of the PCC Field House locker room.  (For all of you that didn’t attend PCC, it’s a mixture of rubber, sweat, and just general funk.)

But this very ugly, non-descript building houses some very interesting characters

The Office of the Public Defender (state and federal)

You don’t mess around with the people going to the 4^th floor. 

And, I have to admit; I totally elevator profile. 

Sometimes, “people” get on the elevator and you just look at them and know where they’re trying to get. 

They press “3” and it takes every piece of me not to say, “Oh, no.  You need 4.”

In the words of Tom Haverford "There's a whole room on the fourth floor where they store the knives they've confiscated from people who went to the fourth floor to stab someone."

Yeah. 

That pretty much sums it up.

It's a scary place.

That I try to stay away from.

Then we have Court Community Services.

Ugh. 

Every morning, I’m trampled by a herd of truants trying to get in first thing for their pee test so they can do only God knows what the rest of the day. 

They’re moving out this month.  I’m kinda excited about that.

Credit

But then we have part of Veteran’s Affairs. 

They’ve only been here a few months but I already don’t like them.

Even though I should.

1)                  They took the most awesome space in the whole building where we usually have our Christmas luncheon and made it storage.

2)                  They’re on floor 2.  We have stairs in the atrium, which if you take, lands you on their doorstep.  And yet they all seem to take the elevator.  This annoyance goes back to my college days, yet again, where we learned that you don’t take the elevator to the 2^nd floor unless you are in a wheelchair.  And these people aren't.

But the one place in our building you don’t want to go to, besides my office, is Bankruptcy Court.

I don’t know how often they hold court, but it’s on the first floor and we all have to walk by it to get in.

And on any given day, you get see a whole host of characters in the waiting room. 

Lawyers.

Young Couples.

Middle aged divorcee’s screaming at each other.

Some of the best dressed people you’ll ever meet.

The elderly – who absolutely break my heart.

Some are nervous.  Some are crying.  Some are happy. 

But I wonder about each one in there. 

I truly want to know about each of their stories. 

How did they end up here? 

Do they have hundreds of thousands in medical bills, but are proud cancer survivors?

Did their business go under? 

Did they make a bad investment?

Did they lose their job? 

Did they sign up for that free t-shirt in college and get in over their head?

Maybe it’s just nosy of me. 

But I want to know. 

What brought them here? 

What is their plan? 

What would they do differently?

What could we all learn from the wide range of people who have walked through those doors?

And if they were willing to tell us, would it change anything we're doing?

I just can't help but wonder....