Wrong Smile
December 12th, 2006 @ 10:41 pmIt is a strange feeling to have contempt for a stranger. It seems so unneccesary, so excessive. Yet here I sit, writing about a stranger who I see every weekday and each time I find myself shaking my head (on the inside only, of course). He is some sort of doorman/security guard at a financial district building that is on the route from BART to my office. Well, he’s not really a doorman. He does not open the door for anyone. Hmm, let me revise that. Occassionally, he opens the door for a pretty young thing, particularly if she’s wearing a skirt (and - this this time year - knee or thigh high boots).
Absent generally meeting the job behavior of a doorman, exemplefied more properly by the guys at the swanky hotel on the next block, I think he is - or is supposed to be - a security guard. Except, well, he doesn’t really seem to do that either. He stands in front of the building, but doesn’t really appear to look at anyone going in. Perhaps he is well-trained and has superior peripheral vision, but I can’t say that’s how it looks. Frequently, I cross his path as he is returning from getting coffee, but no one mans his post in his absence. Sometimes he is too busy chatting up one of those aforementioned pretty young things in a short skirt or staring at the legs and rear of one as she walks by - yes, I’ve seen him do that, yes, I was offended on her behalf, yes, she probably had a reasonable expectation that men would gawk after that when she chose that outfit on a chilly fall day, no, that doesn’t make him any less of a lech.
I shouldn’t care, but I’m so perplexed by his role in the universe and the fact that he seems to get paid for standing around doing something just shy of nothing. I admit that “security” at most office buildings is probably not significantly better than at your average mall - though if you wander around the Embacadero Centers looking bewildered, the security will come “help” you out. But this guy, I think he serves no purpose in front of that building (though he may serve some great purpose elsewhere in his life). So each morning as I walk by, I can’t help but stare at him, trying to figure out the mystery, probably glaring, and yet in my infinite politeness, this morning, he accidentally caught my eye and reflexively, I smiled.
