nearly gone

Our time in Tucson is winding down. The apartment is almost completely packed (the boxes are driving me nuts), and I’m getting sad to leave the office. It feels sort of like the last day of school, but with less signing-of-yearbooks and smearing-of-desks-with-shaving-cream. Granted, I still have another week, but I’ll be displaced from my workspace when the new girl starts on Monday, and things just won’t be the same I’m afraid. I’m pretty sure I’ve complained to most of you about my job (or should I say, complained about PEOPLE I’ve had to work with), but I’ve got to admit that the past two and a half years I’ve spent in this office have been good ones, and this experience will be hard to leave behind.

Which is not to say I haven’t had my fair share of things put on my plate that NO ONE should ever have to deal with. The most recent of these trials cannot be put delicately, so I’m just going to come right out and say it: a human took a dump in our parking lot. The culprit gave their species away by leaving a stash of toilet paper nearby. Poor Darren had no idea it was lurking there in his assigned spot, and ran it right over one Monday morning about six weeks ago. As the office administrator, and liaison for building maintenance, it was up to me to handle the situation. An uncomfortable phone call to the landlord later (“uh, a human took a dump in our parking lot, please send someone to clean it up”), and I figured it had been taken care of. They sent a cleaning crew, who subsequently billed us for the work, so I assumed it was done. It wasn’t until a month later that poor Vince, whose assigned spot is directly next to Darren’s, carefully brought up the issue with me that it had never been cleaned up. WHAT!!!? Another uncomfortable phone call was placed to the landlord, who was very apologetic and assured me that it would definitely be taken care of the next morning. I gave him the exact parking spot number, all of which are clearly marked, before hanging up the phone.

Next morning, I learned from the landlord’s assistant that the cleaning crew had arrived bright and early only to search the entire parking lot in vain before giving up and leaving to another job site. “Are you sure it’s really there? Have you seen it with your own eyes?” she asked.

Now. I’m a fairly patient person at work, but by this point I was fuming. FINE I told her, I WILL GO OUT TO THE PARKING LOT MYSELF TO GET A GOOD LOOK AT THE POO AND CALL YOU BACK. I marched outside, went directly to Darren’s spot, looked at the poo (which, though partially flattened and sunbaked, was still VERY visible), then promptly called the landlord’s assistant back to let her know I’d seen it with my own eyes, and that it was EXACTLY where I’d told her it would be. Apologetic again, I was told the cleaning crew would be dispatched one third and final time to clean it up. BUT, she asked, would you be so kind as to meet them in the parking lot and point them in the right direction? (AAAAARRRRGH)

An hour and a half later, I angrily stomped the cleaning crew supervisor to within a two-foot radius of the filth, POINTED AT IT, and made sure to remark aloud that it was just exactly where I had described it to be. AND YOU WONDER WHY IT’S YOUR JOB TO CLEAN HUMAN FECES OUT OF PARKING LOTS. Dishonest people make me mad.

Anyway, I guess stuff like that kept things interesting here. Human poo in parking lots is the spice of life. Didn’t someone say that once? I can’t be the first person to make that statement. And that wasn’t the only crazy thing I’ve had to deal with since taking this job, though, admittedly, was probably the most outrageous. There was also the drive-by shooting, that one lady that was being beaten by her spouse in our parking lot, and a full-blown cop stake-out in our downstairs conference room (they were watching the dumpster, which had been filled to the brim the night before with drug paraphernalia. As if the perpetrators were going to return in broad daylight the very next day, just to have another fond look at the garbage they left!! Silly cops, having to feel like they’re doing something all the time).

I digress. What I was trying to say is that, though there have been some crazy times, I’m feeling a little sad as I pack up my desk. Most of my belongings here at work are now sitting in a cardboard box in an empty office. The rest are in the fridge, calling my name.

Wish us luck this weekend – it’s going to be a busy one.