Category: Real Jobs

Dear gentle reader: this blog has been operating continuously since I was a teenager. The writing below is at least a decade old. In that time every molecule of my body has been replaced, along with many foolish ideas and flighty beliefs. I want to keep some of those things public out of an honesty and humility I owe the world. I trust you to carry that context with you.

In the lobby of each floor in the building where I work is a yellowing, framed floorplan, with the fire stairs clearly labelled. Today I noticed that the one on my floor had been pulled off the wall (leaving a different color of paint behind) and replaced with a much newer plastic frame labelled “EVACUATION PLAN.”

The piece of paper in the frame was blank.

There’s a woman who works in my building whose name I don’t want to type exactly, for fear of Google, but which is pronounced “Ah NET tuh.” Short E. Her last name is Doss.

A few minutes ago, I heard over the building intercom: “Anita Doss, please dial zero… Anita Doss, please dial zero.”

A couple minutes later, this time in an impatient tone: “Anita Doss, please dial zero… REPEAT, Anita Doss, please dial zero.”

Five minutes pass. Then, sounding harrassed: “Anita DESS, please dial zero…”