The only noise in the office this morning is the humming of an over-worked air conditioner. The struggling appliance is perfectly wedged into place and secured by a single pane window on top. Our clever maintenance man hammered a nail into the window frame so the window cannot be lifted from the outside by a nefarious passerby and the a/c unit stolen, again. Unfortunately, it also means that I am unable to lift the window to escape in the case of an emergency, most likely a fire.
The maintenance man addressed my concerns as adequately as possible.
“Just go out the door if there’s a fire.”
Ahhh, yes. The infinite wisdom of the maintenance man.
Underneath of the a/c unit, its electrical cord dangles listlessly like the tail of an exhausted beast with almost nothing left to offer. Yet, it must keep giving or it will face a fate worse than the broken vacuum, a fate on which nightmares are built, a final meeting with the most nefarious of the nefarious, Junkman.
Junkman is always on the search for devices and appliances with precious metals inside. He drives a rusted out pick-up truck with wooden rails rising from the sides of the back of the truck, obviously to increase his junk load capacity. Once in the dirty and callous hands of Junkman, the air conditioner will be smashed open and its guts ripped out to be scrapped. The rest will be tossed into the nearest alley, left for the city or conscientious neighbor to pick up and properly dispose of in the dumpster or recycling bin.
The thought of this ending makes me sad. As I dwell on thoughts of this air conditioner and air conditioners of days gone by, like the ones that were stolen from the basement or the ancient unit that used to cool my childhood house, I hear heavy footsteps. Someone is rustling around in my co-workers desk and opening his candy dish. The office is not empty and I am not alone.
Maintenance people are here. Their numbers are multiplying and have doubled as of late, while office staff members are dwindling. It is a disturbing trend especially as the building crumbles around me. The bricks are falling from the exterior walls a few at a time. New cracks appear in the plaster on a daily basis and connect with old cracks. A mega crack is being formed in one of the hallways, perhaps too great for maintenance men to handle. However, with all of the extra maintenance men tromping around in their muddy boots and dirty t-shirts, one might think the decomposition of the building would slow.
Alas, this is not the case. More building problems only means more maintenance workers and less time to spend enjoying the hum of the window air conditioner in a dilapidated and almost empty office.