As I grabbed the food from the counter and started walking toward my office, I noticed a man sitting about twenty feet away from me in the little lobby area smiling in my direction. I tried to conceal the wave of a particular emotion I felt and simply smiled back and nodded before walking past him. What emotion was that? Oh, that would be embarrassment. I sat down at my desk and replayed in my head the entire scene that had just transpired…
“Beep beep beep beep,” the door to the office said as I deftly punched in the code. I needed to be deft, of course, because I was balancing three different lunches in my hands that I’d graciously picked up for two co-workers and myself. I used my not-so-prominent backside to push the door open and turned the corner to face two of my co-workers. I plopped the bags down on the counter and asked, “Wanna hear something kinda freaky?” They said they did. “Ok, so since I’m weird, I sometimes count the steps that I take from one place to the next.” “Why?” asked the one who hasn’t known me for very long. “So that I can know approximately how many steps that trip will be in the future, of course,” I replied. “That totally sounds like something you’d do,” she said (finally getting it). “So guess how many steps I took from my first one out of the restaurant to the one that brought me to that door.” They looked at me for a second before one said, “Oh, you really want us to guess? Uh, 200.” “250,” guessed the other. “Ah how little you know. 200 wouldn’t even get me to the street. Ready for this? 6…6…6.” “Wow,” the first one said not very convincingly. “The mark of the beast! I hope that’s just a coincidence and not a sign that my walk was sponsored by Satan,” I said. We then spoke for a minute or two about the number of steps people should take each day, and then I took the food out of the bags. I then explained that I liked the creamy Italian dressing more than the balsamic one because it was better for dipping the bread. I also talked about why I like the particular salad I ordered and proceded to show it off like it was a prize-winning heifer. (People show those off, right?)
That’s about when I turned and saw the stranger sitting nearby and smiling at me. He was dressed nicely and clearly waiting for my boss to come in for a meeting. My only hope was that the meeting didn’t start with, “So who’s that weird guy who counts his steps, talks about Satan, and is very proud in his ability to choose a tasty salad?” Once the man and my boss were behind closed doors, I walked back out to the front and quietly asked, “Um, next time someone’s sitting there and I start spouting my usual nonsense, can you give me some indication so that I stop before I go too far?” They laughed and agreed, but then the newer co-worker said, “Wait a minute, you don’t want them to hear you being you, but it’s ok for us to hear that kind of stuff multiple times a day?” “You’re catching on,” I said, and I turned to start heading back to my kick-ass salad. It was only 22 steps away.