Just Breathe, It’ll be Fine
The train ride in was easy. Mum topped up my Hopcard. She can’t stop mothering me, so I just tagged on and tagged off. But now, walking up the busy street I got more nervous.
Just breathe. It’ll be fine.
Sparkling glass and shiny chrome the foyer was bustling with other busy people. I confidently walked to the elevators and pushed the button to go up.
“Oh, you’ll need a swipe card to use the elevators,” a woman informed me.
“Thanks, I’m new here and don’t have one yet,” I smiled hoping she would let me tag along with her.
“You’ll need to go to the security desk then. They’ll tell you what to do,” she stepped into the elevator, the doors slamming shut behind her.
Just breathe. It’ll be fine.
I looked around and found the security desk to the side of the foyer. There was no one there. As I approached, I saw a small sign saying, “back in 5 mins”. I could wait 5 mins. I was early anyway as I never want to be late.
Just breathe. It’ll be fine.
I took a seat in the waiting area watching all of the busy people file past. I wondered if any of them would be my new colleagues. I wondered what everyone did here. I wondered how long 5 mins actually was.
Just breathe. It’ll be fine.
After 15 mins, two security people returned carrying coffee and having a good laugh about something. I was careful to smooth my annoyed expression, paste on a lovely smile and moderate the tone of my voice.
“Morning team, I’m new here and was wondering if you could possibly help me to get a swipe card to use the elevators?”
“Not our job,” one of them replied.
“Yeah, your people need to send out the security request and then verify your identity and then you pick up the card from the main office ready for your start date.”
“Right,” I said keeping my smile in place. “Seems there might have been some mis-communication. Anyway, can you contact the office so someone can clear that up?”
“We can call, which floor?”
“Twenty-sixth”
The security guard placed the call.
“No answer. Maybe try again tomorrow?” they suggested.
“Or, you could take the stairs,” the other declared.
“To the 26th floor?” I questioned. “Can’t one of you escort me up there in the elevator?”
“Sorry, we can’t leave our post”.
Just breathe. It’ll be fine.
Carefully, so as not to appear distressed and emotional I thanked them for their help.
Just breathe. It’ll be fine.
Okay. The stairs. I can do that.
Finding the stairwell entrance in the corner of the foyer, I entered, removed the inappropriate stair climbing shoes I was wearing and started to climb. I wanted to pace myself so that I didn’t end up entering the office sweety and gross. Five flights and then a break. Repeat. Reaching the 25th floor I took a longer break to compose myself. I put on my shoes, check my reflection in my selfie camera and tell myself that it would all worth it once I got there.
Just breathe. It’ll be fine.
The door was green. Seemed like a good sign. Grabbing the handle, I wrenched it open. But, the only thing I actually wrenched, was my shoulder. The green door was locked. Fuck! You’ve got to be kidding me. I banged on the door in frustration hoping that someone would hear but I knew it was useless. The heavy fire-stop-door was there to stop fire spreading through the building. I plonked myself down on the top step, tears of frustration welling up and sliding down my once composed face.
Just breath. It’ll be fine.
Surely, one of the other floors would be unlocked and someone would be able to help me. So down I go, checking every door. They were all locked. Going down was much easier on my legs than going up.
Just breathe. It’ll be fine.
Reaching the ground floor again I was able to exit into the main foyer. Things looked the same. I did not. I marched over to the security desk finding it very difficult to moderate the tone of my voice and smile
Just breathe. It’ll be fine.
The security guards looked up. “What happened to you?” they asked with a smirk.
“Apparently you can enter and exit the stairwell on the ground floor but all of the other doors are locked.”
“Didn’t you check as you went up?”
“No, I trusted your directions,” I said and smiled, somewhat tightly. They looked at least a little contrite.
Just breathe. It’ll be fine.
I was now late. Quite late. What a disaster. I had done everything they had told me to.
Just breathe. It’ll be fine.
“I’m going home,” I informed the guards. Not that they cared.
“The 26th won’t like that.”
“Look! That’s enough! I’ve had enough! You have done nothing to help me. I have tried my very best.” In frustration, tears started to slip down my face.
“You can’t take that tone with us, we’ll need to escort you from the building.”
“I’m leaving anyway! Don’t you touch me!”
I spun around to exit. The foyer was silent, everyone was staring. Judgment in their eyes. Their faces said it all. I fled. Down the road, back to the train station where I tagged on my hopcard and remembered the love that mum had given me this morning when I left. I sunk down onto a bench to wait.
Just breathe. It’ll be fine.
Mum was surprised to see me as I came through the door. Disheveled and defeated. As my phone connected to the wifi it pinged with notifications. I burst into tears and fell into mum’s arms. “I failed mum,” I sobbed, “they wouldn’t even let me in,” she held me, she stroked my back, “it was humiliating.”
“I love you,” she whispered.
“I’m breathing mum, but it’s not fine,” I said.