The following tale comes from
a time in which I was working as an intern in downtown Portland. Of course, like the rest of my life, this company was far from normal. Firstly hey had a John Hammond(Jurassic Park) mentality: “Spared no expense.”, and secondly that all employees were required on most days to wear a full suit and tie. With these two ideas in mind we can begin our
journey.
The sun beat down like the
drummer of Metallica, threatening to rip open my face with its fiery beams of
heat and death. On the mean(weird) streets of Portland I felt out of place in a three-piece-suit. My target was over
seven blocks away, the sun was in the middle of the sky, and I had picked that day to wear black. It was going to be a journey of Lord of the Rings-like proportions.
The office had given me the mission of procuring $100 worth of doughnuts from Voodoo (Don’t know it? A. Where have you been? B.
Here’s a link http://voodoodoughnut.com/index.php).
When I say that they said buy $100 worth, I mean that they gave me a
one-hundred dollar bill and said go…
Now, Portland may be one of the
safer cities to do this sort of thing is, but it still isn’t the ideal place to
be walking in a suit, with large amounts of cash, but as I mentioned earlier, I
was an intern and did not question orders. I smiled and went.
As it turned out the journey
there was not so taxing. While I did get some strange looks from the hipsters
and beatniks wandering between coffee shops, I was not robbed or beaten senseless(Doesn’t
really happen in Portland, but I think by this time we have established that I
have some strange fears.) When I got to Voodoo Donuts, I found that as usual
there was a sizable line outside.
The Voodoo Sign, With Filters and Things (#HipsterMuch?) |
In any case I waited in the sweltering
heat, feeling my suit ruining beneath the heavy black jacket I wore. While I’m
sure taking the jacket off would have been a safe bet, it was my first year
at the company, and I still believed that one of my bosses was lurking around
every corner to check if I was following protocol.
As I reached the front of the
line I was beckoned to the front counter by one of the kindly punk rockers
working the register. Being the adult I am, buying a hundred dollars’
worth of donuts was just another mundane experience for me… Or I giggled like a
three-year-old, slapped the hundred dollar bill on the counter and shouted: “I
want this many!” Imagine it however you will, but I assure you it was much
closer to the second.
The clerk was clearly very enthusiastic
about creating over five boxes of assorted doughnuts, but still managed one of
the longest and angst filled sighs that I have ever heard. I feel it is
necessary to mention that I have never received treatment like this since, and
most of the Voodoo employees rock! Ten minutes later I found myself looking
like a balancing act in a sugar laden circus.
Balancing my five boxes of
donuts, I walked precariously back into the afternoon heat. Somehow, the boxes
did nothing to mitigate the heat, or make my journey any easier. Instead of the
sweet smell of bacon maple propelling me to victory, it instead attracted my
first obstacle. As I was walking past another Portland favorite, Stumptown
Coffee, I found myself being swarmed by a group of homeless people (About
three).
“Hey Little Wall Street.”
Referring I’m assuming to my cropped hair, and suit/tie. “Got any donuts in
there to spare for a couple of hungry dudes?” More of them were leaving the
makeshift drum circle that had formed on the sidewalk and approaching me. I
should have remembered the golden rule that we all learned from Jurassic park,
but instead I responded to the man…
“I’m sorry man, these are for the
office. Not even my money.” Completely ignoring the raptors coming in from the
sides. He looked at me like a hungry lioness
looks at an injured zebra (Kids close your eyes.) As I looked at him I began to
hear the pitter-patter of little drum sticks, rolling upon my boxes of
deliciousness. The members of the drum circle had grown into a procession
around ‘Little Wall Street’ as I was getting stuck at a crosswalk.
Soon I was being heckled by no
less than five of them! “Come on man, they aren’t going to notice if one box falls
off of the truck are they?”
“Come on man, I’m just an intern!”
Somehow this didn’t elicit much sympathy from them…
“An intern in a suit like that?
Highly doubt it man. You probably the CEO of that place, and just ain’t saying
anything. Come on, give us some of your donuts!” The drumming on the donut boxes
grew louder. To me it sounded like the
booming drums of war. I was terrified and it appeared as though the red hand
would never transform into the little white walk man ever again. I was doomed
to stay at this crosswalk forever, or at least until I had given away my
donuts.
After what felt like an eternity,
the light changed and I was allowed by the gods of public works to continue
along my journey. As soon as I stepped into the street I was met by a host of
curse words from the drum group, but I had stepped out of their area and so
they chose not to follow. Unfortunately, they recognize me now if I go to get
coffee in my suit…
The rest of the journey was
fairly uneventful, until I came to the greatest challenge of them all. For
context, the five donut boxes obscured everything but my peripheral vision, and
took both hands to carry. I reached the door to my office. At the time I was
working at a fairly secured building, and it required a keycard to get in…
Which of course was in my back pocket, in the farthest possible position from
where my hands were.
I’m sure it looked quite strange
to everyone else, but I knew that if I got my back pocket close enough to the
sensor it would let me in. To the outside world I’m sure it appeared as though
I was scratching my butt on the side of a building…
Long story short, I got in the
building, and didn’t have an embarrassing fall while attempting to open the
door with my foot. Everyone got donuts, and no one was hurt, and I learned the
very important lesson, that if you are buying more than two boxes of donuts,
bring a friend…
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