Awkward Opera

08 Feb

Journal #2

  1. Trapped in Elevator, alone, with a person you would walk across the street to avoid.

Nathalie Scarbrough

February 1, 2013

As I enter the large glass building right off 17th and Pennsylvania ave, I notice the creep who’s been tailing me for 10 blocks now has yet to budge. I turn to make eye contact, hoping right before I hop on the elevator he will break some distance between the two of us, saving himself an awkward moment. Nonetheless, this one is persistent. In such a large city such as New York, I have come across quite a few weirdos; but this one was distinct.

We enter into the elevator, and of course its just the two of us. I click the little blue button for the 19th floor and he just stands there, staring at the buttons but pushing nothing. Here we go, I think to myself. The mirrored walls and ceiling in the elevator made me feel a little more comfortable. He couldn’t get away with anything when i could see him from all angles. As he stared at me, i stared right back never losing eye contact until he backed down. His eyes drooped, like he had not slept in days and his eyes were such a clear blue they almost blended in with his sclera. The small enclosed space i was stuck in for what felt like an hour began to smell of unwashed socks, deodorant-less underarms, sweat, and indian food all mixed in a disastrous combination. My nostrils burned with every breath i took, and right as i thought to breath through my mouth the deadly oder was so potent i could taste it on the tip of my tongue!

The strange man was wearing stained and dirty clothes, which made him stick out in this Manhattan upscale Office to one of the biggest Law Firms in the city. Still, I examined him carefully through the mirrors making sure I could give a good description if needed to police. He stood about 6’3, even with his back hunched over. His breathing was heavy, hair was salt and pepper, and had one very distinctive David Star tattooed on his hand. Who is this guy? I wondered if he was apart of a gang, or even a contract killer…no, not dressed like this. He was an odd man to say the least.

Finally, I reached my floor. I was visiting my father, Hank Goldstein. He was a prosecuting attorney, being an ass already naturally only secured him into his job. Still, he was a good dad. The strange man got off on the same floor, i could feel his heavy feet clunk on the ground as he walked behind me. I had already text my father to meet me at the door because i was uncomfortable. As i neared my father, finally able to breath knowing i was safe, my dad smiled. But not at me.

I turned my head. He greeted the creep I was trying so hard to study, expecting to run into my fathers arms and tell him every detail of the most uncomfortable elevator ride of my life. I was confused, but so seemed the disguising man.

“Oh, this must be your daughter?”, said the stranger.

“Yes, this is Annabelle, my beautiful girl”, my father replied. “Annabelle, honey, this is Dr.Jamison.”

WHAT!? I thought to myself, shocked, with my jaw dropped, right back down to the main floor I had just come from.

“Oh, its nice to meet you sir.” I said, weary, wondering if this was some sick joke.

As the man entered the office, I stood in the hallway, then asked my father, “Are you kidding me? Dr. Jamison? As in your boss Dr.Jamison? The owner of this building Dr. Jamison!?”

“Yes, dear, he is certainly not what you would imagine, i know, but you cant judge a book by its cover. He is a very bright man and a very wealthy man. He comes to the office but only once a month or so.”

“But…the smell, the dirt, his fingernails, dad…there is no way…”, I said, demandingly.

“His wife just passed, he has not been, well…quite himself. That is why it is never right to judge. Now, here is your money, run along, i have work to do.” Her father kissed her forehead, and walked  back into work.

She stood still, in the well lit hallway for a few moments. How terrible she felt, for assuming this man to be a creep, a low life, a psychopath. When in reality, his heart aches, he is in mourning. She shook her head, convulsing the negative thoughts she just had for this perfect stranger. She pressed the down button on the elevator, and patiently, quietly waited…

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