2010: Work Day attitude

“Bleep”. There goes the familiar sound of the security machine. I usually managed to ignore him completely. On occasion our eyes meet when he raises his security wand to frisk me, somewhat wary of the intrusion into my body space. The moment loaded with social cues passes quickly but is slow enough to register in both our minds. With forward momentum I propel myself towards the lifts. “Bleep”, I hear it again.

The first time this happened I turned, a little startled, to discover the rather apologetic guard was waving his wand mechanically, maybe a little desperately, at bags of busy office goers like myself. We detest this intrusion, this social offense of being challenged by a simple guard, suggesting by his manner that we have something to hide or that we are by default guilty of some crime.

The wait is always awkward. Men and women standing around in almost pregnant silence looking out anxiously for the ride. Then there is the mad rush to gain a space in that confined space. Up, up, and away the lift takes them to the office where they sit insulated from the outside world for ten hours in the day.