I am a receiver, not a giver.
At the place I work, working in the parking booth is one of the more tedious positions to have. You spend the entire day outside, saying mostly the same thing over and over again. Each interaction takes about ten seconds but somehow people still find a way to not listen to you. It wears on you. And unlike every other position here you don’t get many opportunities to make human connections. When I do I jump at the chance.
It’s been sunny lately, which means everyone is wearing sunglasses which means the ticket machine is hard for people to see. The solution is to tell people “I recommend taking your sunglasses off.” I guarantee you I have heard every variation of comment that can be made after this recommendation: “That helps.” “Polarized lenses.” “Wow, I couldn’t see anything!” I’ve seriously thought about keeping a tally. I know it sounds like I’m a complete stick in the mud, but imagine being a pilot and every passenger tells you to not let your arms get tired while flying the plane. Everyone is looking for a laugh and you have to give them at least a chuckle, every comment, 8 hours a day. The first day is fine, if a bit annoying. The second day you’re starting to wish someone would come up with a better joke. The third you can no longer pretend to be amused. It is honestly personal connection moments that keep me from losing my head.
The one this story is for started out like any other. “I recommend taking your sunglasses off.” A jokey comment. The woman says to me “I imagine it must get frustrating saying that all the time.” I pull off my own sunglasses and say, “you have no idea.” “Oh yes I do,” she says. Really?, I think, you also work in the service industry? “Because,” she says, “I’ve become one of the people you have to say that to!” Im not recounting the dialogue exactly as it occurred - it’s been maybe 40 minutes since this happened and I’ve been interrupted several times. But this was truly funny for me. Truly fun. I could count the moments I’ve genuinely laughed with a visitor on one hand, and I’ve worked here for nearly three years. And I’ve never had a laugh in parking.
Then she said, “you know what, I’m gonna give you this.” I will admit my heart dropped a little there. Because I was expecting a religious leaflet or something. We get those a lot. One of my last genuinely fun conversations ended with a religious leaflet, and I was very disappointed about that. I’m already a Christian, you are producing trash. I throw those away without reading them. But I take it anyway, and tell the woman, “I’ll take this but you can’t hand them out inside.” She said, “I wasn’t planning to, and it’s not religious.” Oh! Color me surprised!
She drives into the lot, leaving me with a teeny business card thing and a sandwich bag with an orange rock in it. Okay, let’s see what this is. The card had this web address on it, but I was more drawn to the orange rock. The clay seed. I turn it around, grinning from ear to ear before exclaiming aloud, “It’s a little man!!” I’m a sucker for little mans: Plushes, tiny action figures, carvings, even bugs. Little mans, all of them, and I can’t get enough.
I will go home today probably tired, probably a little frustrated. I’ll have to figure out dinner, which is its own task. Change clothes, give my dog her medicine, take my own, and resist the urge to play solitaire until I fall asleep. But now I have this little man. And I intend to show him to everyone.
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