The Elevator Announced My Floor

My first job out of college was at a Cleveland based Law Firm located in the BP Building. I had sent my unsolicited resume to HR, interviewed and landed the job before it was ever posted. I started my post college life as a Legal Assistant/Paralegal. I thought I would go to law school.

My first impression of the building upon arrival for my first interview, was holy smokes the elevator talks. I think this was a main motivator for working there. I had never been in an elevator that spoke before.

I felt very grown up working downtown, living on my own, wearing business clothes every day, and I never got tired of the elevator telling me what floor I was on. I took the bus every day, except when running late and then I would drive. Despite my mid 20s salary, I would park in the BP Garage, $12 a day. It was not a smart expenditure. Walking into the building from the garage in my business clothes with all the other suits, made me feel special. Never mind that I got out of a sporty Saturn and they mostly drove BMWs. I really miss that Saturn by the way.

For the last several years, I have gotten my hair cut in The Arcade (see previous posts). This worked great when I worked downtown. I'd stroll over after work or on lunch. My car was already parked as 99% of the time I drove to work, mostly business casual attire, salary not in the mid 20s.

Now, I have to drive and park for the purpose of a hair cut (love my hair guy that much and not just because he's easy on the eyes). Most of the time I manage to find street parking. Sometimes I park in the lot I used to park in for work, but if there is an event, the jacked up price is more than I am willing to pay. This past time I was going to valet as I had the time before, cheaper than any of the lots if there is an event.

I don't have much patience, probably less so behind the wheel, so when the valet was backed up with no real chance of taking my car in the next 5-10 minutes, I did what anyone, who was going to be late for an appointment, would do...I reversed down Superior and pulled into the BP lot. It's $5 on Saturdays, assuming no events.

After my hair appointment, I entered the BP Building to withdraw money from my bank's ATM. Afterall, I had to get out of the parking lot. I hadn't been in the building for a few years. I hadn't entered the building from the garage in over a decade.

I won't lie, I felt cool when I entered the building. I was taken back to my 22 year old self. Plus, damn did my hair look good. I went to the ATM and then I walked into the building's atrium, I always loved the plants, it felt like you were in a park. I stayed for a few minutes and then went back to my car. The rest of my day needed to happen and it wasn't taking place in the atrium of the BP Building.

As I walked back to my car, I thought about how long ago it all seemed. A few months before I left the firm for another job, they had offered me an HR Assistant position. They thought I'd be really good in HR. I declined, still thinking I would go to law school. At the end of the week in which I was promoted to HR Manager, I climbed in my SUV and smiled. I guess a law firm knew me more than I knew myself when I was 22.