Morning Crowds

The employees haven't even come in yet, that's how early it is. I walked here before the sun was able to mosey over the mountains. The construction crew is still finishing up their overnight shift. CLANG. Metal drops on the metal floor. SCHWAK. A plastic pole swings into the wooden door frame. DRILL DRILL DRILL. HAMMER HAMMER HAMMER. "Lift it higher. That's too high, bring it back down. To the left, not that left, your other left. Ay dios mio." There are seven of them; working like fluid to finish some electrical work. A bright, neon orange shirt walks through the door and checks in on the crew. "Did you get it, brothers?" The crew responds in grunts. Mhmm. He makes what I'm assuming is a joke in Spanish, because he laughs and then heads back out the door.

When they're not focused on the work, they're smiling.

The staff is starting to filter in. I see briefcases, full coffee mugs,  and folders filled tight with paperwork. They exchange nods to each other. They are focused. You can see it in their pursed lips and fresh eyes. "Morning," replied with "Mhmm."

I hear the crew give a warm chuckle.

I see a disheveled student walk through the door. His backpack is unzipped, and his single notebook is threatening to jump. His hair is sticking straight up. And out. And to the left. And to the right. His shirt reads, POWERED BY and then beneath the caption is a picture of pizza. I can relate. He walks in the building a solid ten feet, looks around. Baffled, he turns around and heads right back out the door.

More students filter in and out. Gaggles of pretty girls in high heels click clack click clack through the building. Deep, cheap, red lipstick shines bright. Giggle giggle giggle. A squad of Asian kids are trying to find a specific office. They point upstairs and then point to a piece of paper in their hand. One points downstairs and the other points back upstairs again. They study the paper and then decide to head upstairs.

The construction crew is clearing out. I watch as they pat each other on the shoulder while walking out the door. Some shake hands. They all smile.

Then it is quiet.

No one is around. Well, that's a lie. Someone is sleeping on the community couch. I can see his steady breathing. His shoulders heave with each breath and his curly brown hair is facing me.

My hour is up.