The Paper Towel Situation
“Hand it over, now!” He demanded. Where are you hiding the paper towels!”
I paused. Gathered my thoughts. A restful weekend and now this! I could tell he pulled a double-shift and was tired and wanted to go home. He was working seven days a week and barely had time for his family.
I thought of Al, 71, our other guard who works the graveyard shift on Fridays. He was of Egyptian and Russian background and good natured, sometimes sarcastic and always showing me pictures and videos of his grandkids. Being a retired medical doctor, he thought this job was dumb and made his repeated and funny analogy known when it came time for me to use the restroom to change out of my uniform. As long as he brought in a thousand a month, his wife, also a retired physician, was happy with it.
My attention re-focused back on our young supervisor. Searching for a simple response. This was probably the only job he has ever known.
“We’re out of paper towels,” I replied “I’m not hiding them.” leaning forward playing dumb and acting concerned.
“WHAT!” he snapped with an upward inflection emphasizing the T.
I wanted to say more but it would only be wasted energy. I bit my lip.
This wasn’t like him. Jumping to conclusions. There would be no point in reasoning with him on something so frivolous. A job with no benefits for anyone and where a promotion was luck of the draw with only a tiny increase in pay and triple the responsibility. Pay increases were only given when the minimum wage increased. Lots of opportunity for overtime gave the illusion of a pay raise. The paper towel situation is one better left alone. Better if I bring my own next time.
He said nothing more, packed his things then left. Through a small opening in his bag, I saw a shadow of what could have been paper towels or something like the side view of an oriental fan. Asian residents, who made up the majority, did give us cultural gifts.
The following Friday, Al arrived on time because he knew I liked to leave early. And probably because I always shared my bottles of water with him. And like always, he said jokingly, “Go change your diapers!” I gave my usual burst of laughter. He knew I was happy to see him even if our paths only crossed a few minutes each week.
So he wouldn’t he without paper towels for the next eight hours, I pulled a small stash from under the bathroom sink. A stash that could have been easily discovered by the supervisor.
I left knowing that tomorrow I would have to start my shift from zero, live in the present moment but first remind myself of the bigger picture.