Useless

At the nondistinctive office building where I work downtown, there's a guy, Freddy, that works at the front desk in the lobby. In the two years I've worked in this office, it's always been a mystery to me what exactly Freddy's job entails. I know that he requires all visators to sign in. Hmm . . . . maybe security? But no, not exactly. When a woman who works in my office had her purse stolen out of her office last year, she called office managment to complain. Specifically, she asked why Freddy hadn't stopped some scruffy thief from entering the building. "Security is not Freddy's job," she was told. "He's a greeter, sort of a customer service person." What?

So greet he does, sort of. Usually Freddy is on the phone. And it's a daily beating for me when Freddy looks up from his phone conversation an acknowleges me. Usually, all I can muster for Freddy is a simple "Hey." I should be nicer, but I find that hard to do for somebody who's essentially useless and contributes nothing to the greater good.

Today, I gave Freddy a chance to be useful --- a shot at redemption if you will. Long ago, I lost my office key and I haven't replaced it. I usually get to work early, but I don't need a key because there's always at least one person here who's already opened the door. So I arrive this morning, and nobody's here. The doors are locked shut. So I go down and ask Freddy if he'd kindly let me in my office --- you know, the one you've seen be go in for the last two years. His replie is: "You have to call your office manager before I can authorize that." What?!?! You know I fuckin' work here. You know I get here at 8 a.m. every morning. Thanks for the "customer service" sir. So my defeated reply is "Oh. O.K." I go across the street get a stupid cup of $1.75 Starbucks and wait for somebody to open my office up. I walk back to the office, where Freddy acknowleges me. I stare straight ahead.