Today is my last day at a job I have had for years. It is the job that took me out of poverty and brought me into a huge grand Galleria with business people and people of all sorts I meet and talk to on a daily basis. I meet thousands of people and I think one of the reasons I stopped seeking “fame” as a singer was due to the high demands my job has with the infringement of my privacy. I thought I would be only happy to leave. But I’m not.
I look around today and I see it like new, yet old, and familiar. People who smile at me every morning are still smiling at me and I am in tears. I know this is the last time I will see them in this setting. I just helped someone and choked back a sob, held in a tear, and answered the monotonous question I get asked daily. Yes, it usually revolves around the description and area of where a company is located and how to get to the elevator bank. I am a flight attendant on the ground floor.
It doesn’t get much more exciting than this. I have waited on Geddy Lee from Rush, got a grand gesture of a wave from Brian Mulroney, and the warmest greeting and response from Tom Cochrane who I will never make fun of again because he is the biggest sweetheart with the best energy around. David Usher from Moist has made me blush because he is really sweet, handsome, and polite. Belinda Stronach and Alannah Miles confused me because they looked so different in person I was not sure it was them. Either way, I meet lots of people and understand why humanity craves silence and solitude; this job is draining.
Yet, it is what got me my start with singing lessons in Toronto, recording time, and most previously University courses. Without this job I could not have finished my degree that took me 5 years part-time to complete.
I have written songs and stories when a moment just comes to me. I have scribbled in a journal or typed on my lap top. I’ve received waves and chats from CEOs and VPs who are very sweet to take the time to wave across the hall at me. My boss is my friend.
I will miss seeing the children from the day care who learn my face with memory. They smile and wave, staring back at me from their strollers and I proclaim: “I am the baby whisperer”.
I will miss the couriers who snarl at me, give me the horns, and help me scare people into thinking I am insane; my Tuesday routine with Ian Douglas Smith that revolves around popcorn and old ugly boy friends. Thank you for the various pen names I may use in the future: Velvet Eve the Vivacious yet Increasingly Vicious Vampire and others of the dangerous sort. I will miss you too.
Thank you, all of you quirky beautiful individuals who truly give me too much love: hugs, kisses across the way, and a rose today. Now I know what Dave Mustaine felt like getting a rose from me.
I will miss Keira who I watched grow from a toddler at day care to a tall thin youngster who looks like my mini-me. I have been blessed.
I will miss it here and I will miss all of you. Thanks for taking the time to get to know me and for just smiling at me. This place has been like home for me, a small town community where people know too much about me and see me too often. Yet, it will be what I miss. I know this is true. I know it now. I see it clearly. I see it with new eyes; vampires eyes that are burning red and misting, trying to hold on to this moment and make it last.
But I won’t miss the suit who calls me Susan and I still haven’t had the chance to spray him with Windex like I’ve always wanted. There is still hope for that. Maybe today.