Summer’s End, A New Journey
Summer ended, in a manner most unexpected. And I found myself heading off to a new job, in a new town, basically new everything. Especially new people that I had never met before (a rarity in my field). Well, except my new boss, the business owner, who I had talked to twice. Once, over a rather uncomfortable lunch at an upscale French restaurant, that closed soon after. I always wonder if our lunch had anything to do with that feeling, but that’s a story for another time.
It’s always a bit unnerving, stepping into a new workplace. Especially a small one in a small town, where everyone knows everything about everyone, and then there’s you, a total outsider. While my reception was friendly, back on that first day, there was a coolness and a hint of mistrust in many of the hello’s that made my stomach tighten. I had to wonder what the staff had been told about me — I’m one of those people whose reputation often precedes them, as the saying goes. Sometimes in a good way, sometimes not so much. Either way, people tend to form strong opinions of me, often before they really get to know me. My gut was telling me that I was being judged for something, but I could not quite put my finger on just what it was. I put on my most neutral and professional face, and started to get to know my new co-workers.
The lead receptionist seemed the most friendly of the group. A gray-haired, early 60’s looking mother of three (there were pictures on her desk), Ellen wore wire-rimmed glasses and a light sweater with tiny pearl buttons that reminded me of my grandmother. She showed me where to put my things, see my schedule, and get my messages. She asked all the usual questions, including the one everyone seems to want to know when you start a new job. “Are you married?” “No, not yet,” is my standard reply. I leave out the part that my best relationship to date has been with my dog. You see, dogs are loyal, they don’t lie to you, or pretend they care more than they actually do. They may have an accident on your favorite rug, but that’s why carpet cleaners exist. Humans, well, let’s just say they are not the equals of dogs.
As I worked through my first morning I got a feel for the rest of the people in the office. There was Billy the cleaning guy, and Barb, the lead assistant. And of course, my boss, Elizabeth, (don’t ever call her Beth) whose quirky and often inappropriate comments caused my jaw to drop multiple times in that first morning. You know how every office has that person that shares too much personal information on a daily basis? Well, that was Elizabeth. Nothing was off limits. As time passed, I would learn more about her views and choices, on everything from cleaning supplies to men to undergarment options. (Spoiler alert, she was not a fan of undergarments — “Air it out!” was her motto.)
There was one person that I couldn’t figure out. Kelly, a receptionist and assistant, was incredibly reserved and at times almost adversarial. I swear sometimes she was staring daggers at my back. I couldn’t remember ever meeting her before or even knowing anyone that knew her. So I was at a bit of a loss to explain her behavior. I thought perhaps if I bought her a coffee when I went to lunch, or complimented her on something like her hair or cute jacket, maybe I could open a door. But I hit an incredibly solid brick wall. And her frosty blue eyes could not have been colder when they met mine. I had no idea why. Maybe it is my significant need to be accepted, or to figure out people, or just to know, but I had to find out why this woman despised me. And it went beyond the fact that I had to find a way to work with her five days a week. Her non-acceptance of me fueled my need to be accepted, something I fight myself on daily. It was obvious by lunch time that Kelly was going to be the toughest part of this job. To be honest with myself, I was unsure if I was up to the challenge. I wondered if I had done the right thing in quitting my last job and diving in here, into what was obviously a deeper puddle than I had imagined.
As first days go, mine was not that bad. We wrapped up on time, and I had my things together to head out when I realized Kelly was still working on something involving lots of paper slips and a calculator spread out on the counter. Figuring I would take my last shot of the day at bridge building, I asked what she had left to do and if I could be of any help. For the briefest of moments, I saw a look of surprise in her eyes, a bit of blue warmth before the frost settled back in. “No, I’ve got this covered, it’s just end of day stuff,” she replied dismissively. “You can go.”
I’m not sure I have ever been so abruptly dismissed by a co-worker I technically supervised, let alone someone I had just met. I must have stood there in disbelief for a few seconds, because she looked up from her pile of papers, as if wondering why I was still there. Saying nothing, she went back to her calculator. I turned around slowly, feeling a bit incredulous at her words and tone. I left without saying another word.