A Day in the Life of an Urban Professional

(Editor's Note: I really can't write at the moment. I mean, I could in the sense that my hands work and I am able to form complete sentences. Just that my mind is a mess of thoughts and the blog is not the right place for them. I'll explain it over the weekend. Until then, enjoy this writing project from my past.)

As soon as I looked out the grimy train window I knew that I was in trouble. In retrospect, I should have taken my time in the morning. But, I really wanted to get to the office early and do some last minute preparation for the Boddington presentation. There would be millions of dollars riding on this meeting and it was vital that I look as calm and professional as possible. So, instead of having a little breakfast and watching the morning news, I rushed headlong out of my apartment, leaving my umbrella behind.
It looked as if my umbrella was going to be necessary. Even through the greenish tint of the window, the sky looked as if it was about to burst at the seams. I tried to remain calm as the train drew nearer to Union Station. It was just going to take a few more minutes to reach Union Station and then a 10 minute walk through downtown and I'd be home free. But, as the first drops of rain began to streak the sides of the window I started to gather up my belongings. Every second I could save now would just keep me that much dryer. With my world battered briefcase which held the presentation slides at my side I started to head for the door.
After what seemed like hours I was finally able to step off the train and into the crowd slowly moving away on the platform. I began to try to force my way through the group of dour faced businessmen but quickly stopped. I imagined the papers in my briefcase slowly folding and curling as I jostled my way through Union Station. It's one thing to look a little damp when talking in front of an audience, it's another to give them outlines which looked like they had spent time in a recycling bin. So, instead of fighting my way out, I slowly flowed with the crowd, listening all the while to the first raindrops plink off the glass windows high overhead.
I bounded up the escalator, rushing to meet the inevitable outside. The situation wasn't as bad as I expected. The sky was an ugly gray laced with a greenish hue. The storm was coming but it was only a light drizzle at the moment and I was only six blocks away from the office. Maybe my hair would get wet and my suit might not be as crisp as usual but those problems weren't fatal. Heck, no one would even notice that an hour later. It was just a ten minute walk, that's all.
I made my way across the Chicago River, feeling the wind whip across my face. Fingers of lightning began to streak across the sky. My heart started to beat a little faster as I tried to snake my way around the slower pedestrians. Fat drops of rain were now striking my face and tracing a path down the length of my glasses. Thunder continued to rumble in the distance. The storm was much closer than I thought. It would be a matter of minutes before the sky would open up and leave me standing there drenched. I could just see myself standing in front of the Board of Directors with my wet shirt clinging to my back as I placed my stained overhead slides on the projector.
But I wasn't beat yet. I cut across to the north side of Adams St. to take advantage of the storefront awnings. I borrowed other people's umbrellas, ducking under them if only for a split second. Lights didn't matter, as long as I wasn't hit by the car coming towards me. The car that was coming at the puddle next to me.
Car. Puddle. Uh oh.
Luckily someone was walking the other way just as the car hit the puddle. I slid around the poor guy and let him take the brunt of the wave. It was just three blocks now and even though the rain continued to fall at a constant rate it looked like I had a chance.
Lightning and thunder continued to play in the background, causing the lady in front of me to stop to pull out her umbrella. At least that's my best guess since the next thing I knew I had plowed right into the back of her. I was barely able to keep her from falling onto the sidewalk as the metal tip of her umbrella pierced my pant leg and began to slowly tear it's way towards my foot. With throbs of pain running down my calf and slow, steady drops of water dripping from the buildings plopping on my head I was just able to mutter, "Are you ok?" It was the only polite thing to do.
"Watch where you're going, jerk. What, you can't wait two minutes to get to work?"
"I don't have two minutes," I thought as I looked down at my leg. My pants were torn and I was limping a little but that was the least of my worries. The Vice President shouldn't be focusing on my legs but he will be looking me straight in the face, which was being pelted by rain. I could feel strands of my hair slowly moving, counteracting all the measures I took this morning. The crackles of lightning was echoing around the sky like some kind of maniacal laughter, mocking me in my helpless state. But, if I could only get across the street then I could cut through the Bank Building and then I'd be all set. So, It was one last rush across the street as I dove into the revolving door and quickly stopped.
It had to be Casmir Pulaski Day. I reassessed my situation. The rain was coming down in torrents now. The sidewalks had turned into a slow moving sea of dark suits. "One block, now or never," I muttered to myself as I sprinted down the street. My briefcase was swinging wildly, hitting a few poor souls who happened to be in my way. I did everything I could to move faster short of knocking people into the path of an oncoming bus. Half a block, quarter of a block. There seemed to be more rain with every step, as if there would be a monsoon by the time I reached the lobby. Sixty yards, forty yards. As the sky let out one last roar and dumped its contents onto the still waking city I slipped into the doorway. I was a little rattled, my hair looked as if I just got out of the shower, but I was still able to make a triumphant march to my office.
"Brian, glad to see you're here early," said my boss as he saw me saunter into the room. "They've moved the presentation to the Standard Oil Building. Hope you brought your umbrella."

The Weekly Meeting

“I’d like to call tonight’s meeting of the Pessimist’s Club to order.”

“This meeting is going to be horrible.”
“These chairs aren’t as comfortable as last time.”
“Why couldn’t we get a bigger room?”

“First off I’d like to thank Janel for bringing the coffee and snacks tonight.”

“Coffee causes high blood pressure.”
“She’s trying to kill us all.”
“For crying out loud Janel, would it kill you to bring some freaking bagels to these meetings? Just once I’d like to have a fucking bagel. And I mean a real one. One that is boiled like they do in New York.”

“And of course we should take a moment to remember Gerald who is no longer with us.”

“All of my friends are leaving.”
“There goes my carpool”
“Say goodbye to the fantasy football team.”

“Gerald did write to say that he has settled into his new home in Miami and is adjusting.”

“It’s much too hot down there.”
“Ten bucks says his new house is leveled by a hurricane.”
“I bet he at least can get a bagel with some god damn cream cheese.”

“Now our first order of business is the preparation for the upcoming presidential election.”

“Politicians are all a bunch of crooks.”
“Mathematically speaking, your individual vote is meaningless.”
“I’m telling you, this country has gone to hell ever since we let women vote.”

“And then there is our annual fun run.”

“My shins hurt.”
“Does it have to be outside again? We’re all going to get sunburn and that will turn into melanoma, I just know it.”
“How the hell is running meant to be fun, anyway? All we do is run around the neighborhood, sweat like mad, and end up exactly where we freaking started. It’s absolutely pointless!”

“In a very special treat, the post race picnic will feature a concert by Styx.”

“They’re too loud.”
“Without Dennis DeYoung the band sucks.”
“Let me guess. No bagels at the picnic either. Figures. I’m surrounded by a bunch of no culture, Midwestern inbreds.”

“Now let’s look at what we’ve accomplished, shall we?”

“Every second the entropy of the universe is increasing moving us closer to inevitable disaster.”
“Oxygen causes cancer so even breathing is bad for you.”
“Janel this coffee is horrible.”

“Next week’s meeting will be at Steve’s house.”

“It’s too far away.”
“In that neighborhood it is a guarantee that my car is going to get stolen.”
“Not like I have anyplace better to go.”

“Until then, I would like us all to repeat our credo.”

“Life sucks.”
“Existence is meaningless, a fraud perpetuated by our own sub-conscious.”
“No matter what happens, things could be worse. And they probably will be in due time.”