Sometimes fortune drops one in your lap.Sometimes fortune drops one in your lap. In my case, it was after work one chilly autumn day while a winter wind skated through the trees outside the great New York 'scraper I worked in. 43 stories up, the streets of New York share the same grey monotony, barring unexpected weather. Looking down through the plate glass in a genuine experience in vertigo. Miniaturized people, toy cars, and thin ribbons of grey. Congested with traffic, as usual. I glanced at my watch. The office is always deserted around this time, making it an excellent time to cap off lingering work. The quiet and peace always helped me get some of my most pressing thinking done. This time, with the absense of clattering keyboards and background chatter, I could clear out some long term planning. So I was completely self absorbed when a cheerful woman's voice jolted me out of my self imposed reverie. "Huh?" I exclaimed in surprise, jerking forward in my swivel chair. She was smiling. A petite blonde girl dressed in blue coveralls, her flaxen hair done up in a functional ponytail. She leaned forward as if I was a bedridden patient in one of the state's institutions. I grinned haplessly while she spoke. "I said, 'Can I work here or will I be disturbing you?" Oh. I guessed she was here to complete some repair work. Probably she'd supposed the place would be deserted. "No, no problem. I'll be out of here in half an hour anyway." "OK," she said without preamble, and got to work. She carried a toolbox with her and in no time was puttering around some of the network cabling with the arcane tools of her trade. When she knelt down I couldn't help but notice the way cloth clung to the outline of her firm behind. Introspection seemed to elude me now, I realized with a wry frown. "You're working late," she said over her shoulder as she concentrated on her work in the partition next to mine. My voice conveyed a shrug. "When you're the son of a workaholic, you pick up lots of nasty habits." She fiddled with something, her back blocking my view. "Oh? That's not good...." "Steven," I put in. The woman straightened up deliberately and turned to me. "Alice," she said, taking my hand very firmly. I smiled. Alice got back to work but we settled into an interesting conversation all the while. |