The Tale of David Patrick Gardner

Movin' On Up

David had neglected to set an alarm and was no longer accustomed to waking up early, so when he turned over, opened his tired eyes, and saw that it was already nine a.m., he felt a rush of urgency. He had wanted to arrive at the court house before they opened, ensuring he would be the first person through the door. This unexpected change of plans set his mind off on a path of nervous circular thoughts, and he began repeating over and over, 'Already nine a.m., oh no, I'm late, I'm late, I'm late for a very important date. Already nine a.m., oh no, I'm late, I'm late, I'm late for a very important date'.

He fumbled out of bed and threw on his one and only long-sleeved collared shirt, slid into wrinkled khakis and slipped on his oversized shoes; of course, it would be several steps after passing through the front door that he would remember to actually tie the laces, as was his lifelong habit. He walked with a frenzied purpose to the bus stop, passersby gave him a wide birth, he was nearly manic with nervousness and a worry that his being late, even if only in his own mind, would somehow be punished. The public could sense something was amiss as he came strutting down the sidewalk.

It was just after ten a.m. when David arrived at the King County Court House that housed the offices of the County Council. This was not an area of the city that he enjoyed visiting. Bums, drugs, booze, people in the midst of complete mental breakdown littered the surrounding streets, stripped of their humanity by a system that sees meaningless suffering as a human right. Life had taught David about the dangers of these areas, and he knew what to do. He adopted a serious, 'hey, don't fuck with me' expression that he hoped would keep the sharks off his scent as he shuffled quickly from the downtown bus stop to the building's entrance.

Security at the court house was rather tight. "Remove your belt, wallet, keys, phone, anything metal and pass it through the x-ray," came the direction as David neared the front of the line. He followed the instructions without incident and then made his way to the elevator bank. 'Fifth floor, fifth floor, fifth floor', he repeated in his head as he prepared for the big opportunity.

Arriving at the reception desk, with a bit of nervous perspiration on his brow, David stared at the woman who sat intentionally ignoring his understated attempts at drawing her attention from the computer screen. After several moments of tapping his finger and clearing his throat, he finally spoke up, "Uh, hello."

"Hello!" replied the overweight African American receptionist, without taking her eyes off of the illuminated screen in front of her. The delivery of her 'Hello!' was as if David's greeting had been highly unusual or offensive in some way, which it wasn't. But David wasn't shocked or offended, he was used to not so friendly reactions from people who mistook his social awkwardness as an insult and felt the need to return it.

"Hello?" she repeated, with a questioning tone, still rude but slightly less loudly this time. "You just going to stand there? Speak!"

David straightened his posture, took a breath, and delivered the line he'd been rehearsing in his head, "Hello, I am here on the fifth floor to see Ron."

"Council member Ron Vaughn?" inquired the receptionist, suddenly changing her attitude in a transparent attempt to not garner any complaints from the now recognized guest of the esteemed honorable lying corrupt immoral King County council member shithead.

"Yes."

"Is he expecting you? He normally isn't here in the morning."

"Yes."

"Okay," she said, rolling her eyes. "I'll call back and see if one of his staff can come out. What's your name?"

"David Patrick Gardner."

Before picking up the phone, the woman instructed David like a dog, "Sit. Someone will be out soon."

She called back to Ron's secretary, who transferred the call to Ron's chief of staff, who called the council member to seek guidance on how to handle the unexpected visitor.