Wednesday, April 13, 2011

oh na na

There is a fleet of six doormen who take turns manning the front desk in my new building. Having a doorman is a new phenomenon for me, and it's certainly taking some getting used to. There's something almost uncomfortable about having your comings and goings "monitored" by a vaguely parental figure, one who mutters "good luck out there" when it's raining or "good morning" as you leave the apartment in sweats at 2pm.

Anyway, there is one of the six who is younger than the others and, if he wasn't wearing a suit, he wouldn't look out of place at a Sleigh Bells concert or Central Park on a Saturday afternoon. Rather than doling out verbal greetings like his comrades, he seems to prefer a barely perceptible head-nod or an extremely controlled wave. As such, I've identified a pretty embarrassing desire within me to "impress" him. But I reached a major road block in this quest last week when he accompanied one of his waves with a "Hey, Josh," and I found that I couldn't reciprocate his friendly gesture because... I didn't remember his name.

Now, this guy does wear a name tag but, aligned with his overall brand, it droops in such a manner that it's basically impossible to make out what it says (even when you're standing right in front of him). I have made up a whole series of reasons to stop and talk to him over the past week, trying to slyly kneel and crane my neck at just the right time and at just the right angle while I "listen" to whatever he's saying. So far, I've been able to conclude his name starts with a "B"... and that's about it. I got one momentary direct glance and I saw "Bloiche," which a) cannot be correct and b) I wouldn't even DARE try to pronounce anyway.

I've attempted the ole "have a friend introduce herself" trick (she reported back: "I think 'Ben'? Or, like, 'Bizarre'?"). I've also contemplated just admitting to him I don't remember his name (but keep deciding that it would be too embarrassing after having had so many interactions with him). I have even mulled asking my mom to call the front desk when I know he's on duty to have her coax it out of him.

So I wait for two possible resolutions: the day I am no longer so self-conscious that I can't just ask someone to remind me what his name is, or the day "Bloiche" gets his name tag readjusted. I feel pretty confident I know which will happen first.

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