We made a pick up at 180 N Lasalle.
To get into the building you must enter through the loading dock, take an elevator to the basement, and then wait in the basement for the often slow freight elevator to take to you to wherever you go.
I used to let this building's procedure stress me out.
But that was back when the industry was busy and you had dozens of other orders burning up your overloaded messenger bag.
We waited a couple of minutes for the elevator to arrive.
Tom the elevator operator took us to the 37th floor.
On the way up Lauren studied the old round soul with the gruff voice.
"He must be so bored," she later said.
Actually, Tom has always seemed pretty content.
Every day he reads the paper and shoots the shit with all the contractors and maintenance crew. Everyone knows his name and seems glad to see him. During the summer I think he works as a vendor for the Cubs. In the decade I've been in this line of work, I've never once had a problem with Tom.
That's an accomplishment for Tom.
I grabbed the package quickly from the 37th floor and caught the elevator before it could close again. On the way down, two other delivery guys joined us.
Lauren made sure to clearly say "thank you" to Tom on the way to the basement elevator.
We all piled into the basement elevator as a bike messenger was exiting.
He had dropped some lingering ass in there.
We were left to inhale it as the door took the maximum amount of time to close shut.
"No ventilation and it stinks in here," observed one of the delivery guys.
He got mock-woozy, or perhaps truly woozy.
There was no ventilation.
And it stunk badly.
I got my ID back from the dock security booth and we were off.
"That is the one interesting thing about your job," Lauren mused.
"You get to see a side of this city that not many people do."
I agreed but countered.
"Yeah, you've just seen ten years of my life in five minutes."
Tonight we opened Beatlemagica as part of The Annoyance's Wednesday night Triple Feature.
Alan from The Bitter Tears, John and Julia from The Columbines, Liz from Bully Pulpit, Jim & Vanessa from the PRF, Gillian from The July Green, some of the guys from Sad On Vacation, and many other improv faces came to see it.
It went over well. The music hit hardest. There's something about hearing these iconic songs forever branded into our cerebellum played in shambling earnestness.
Later I played drums for my friend Jessica's show Lady Cops. It killed.
We have one more night of this showcase and then that's it.
I recommend it.
Verdict: Win
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