It was a new day. The sun, much like the eyes that gazed upon it, burned brightly with bourgeoning intensity. With the birth of the day was born the hope for a new way to live; a chance to escape all that was etched in stone and written in clay. A second chance, he thought to himself as his eager hands grasped the freshly polished handles at the entrance of Wayne Tech, "a second chance for me."
A second chance perhaps, for all of us.
In the glass doors before him was an unavoidable image of all that was behind him. Where trees once stood and flowers once bloomed centuries ago now had evolved, maybe devolved, into iron buildings and cement streets. His hands still clasping the handle bars, he hesitated for a moment. He could almost feel lifetimes of disappointment, frustration, and discontent radiate off the collage of images he saw in the glass doors. The chipped sidewalks, polluted streets, and haggard expressions of those walking behind him contrasted the pristine architecture of the Wayne Tech building. Fitting, he thought to himself. It was quite appropriate, at least in his mind, that irregardless of how bleak things were outside, it was all behind him now.
Gently inhaling, he finally opened the doors and entered into the office space of Wayne Tech. Upon stepping foot into the building, he was immediately in awe of how truly massive and spacious the interior was. For the first time in a long time, he felt small again, he felt like a part of something much larger than himself. However, his wonderment stemmed not from intimidation but rather excitement. A sense of genuine enthusiasm swept over him as it sunk in that he would actually be working here.
Today was the first day of his new job, but it meant so much more to him than just that. This was more than a mere change of setting or a change of position; this was almost rejuvenation for him; mind, body, and spirit. Since this was his first day he wanted nothing more than to make the best first impression he possibly could. With that in mind, he quickly regained his composure after his initial bedazzlement at the sheer magnitude of the building's interior, and he proceeded to the receptionist's desk.
As he made his way towards the receptionist's desk his eyes continued to roam, admiring the sharp craftsmanship of the interior design down to even the minutiae details. Conversely, from across the room the young receptionist's eyes fixated on him alone the moment he entered. She was no more than 25 years old, and everyday without fail at least one man passing by her desk would be captivated by her beauty. By now she had become quite desensitized to the wash of faces that passed by her desk each day, but there was something different about this man who had just entered. She had never seen him before and knew nothing about him, heightening her already growing interest in him.
Approaching her desk his eyes engaged hers and he spoke, his voice as smooth as the silk Italian suit he wore, "My name is John Andrews; I'm new. I have a meeting with a Ms. Stevenson who is supposed to show me around and help me get acclimated with everything here." There was a charisma about him that shone through every confidant word he spoke to her, capturing her heart with the subtly of a smile. Coyly she responded, "Ms. Stevenson isn't in yet. What time is your meeting with her supposed to be?"
With unwavering eyes, he continued to stare into her starry eyes and said, "9 o' clock." She answered, "Well Ms. Stevenson usually gets in at about 8:45 and," pausing to look at her watch, "you're about 20 minutes early." Unaffected, he gracefully added, "I have no problem waiting." "I like that," she found herself quickly saying, and then she went on, "I had a boyfriend who was always in such a rush and couldn't stand waiting for anything. I hated that about him."
With a faint flirtatious tone in his voice, John inquired, "I hope things are going better for you with your current boyfriend." Idiosyncratically twirling one of the long locks of hair brushing against her shoulder, she divulged, "Actually I'm not seeing anyone right now…" After she finished speaking, his smile widened, ever so slightly revealing a small crease line on his cheek that gave his 30 year old face a distinguished quality, and he said, "I take that it's by choice. I would find it quite hard to believe that someone as breathtaking as you would not already be taken." She blushed as he said that, and in that instant he knew he had her. Countless times she had heard similar lines from men, but never had she received a compliment with such grace and dignity as from this man she had just met. Curiously she inquired, "How about you Mr. Andrews, is there someone special in your life?" He lightly leaned forward onto the desk and coolly said, "I'd like to think there could be."
Before she had an opportunity to speak again, the two heard the glass doors open, and walking towards them was a middle aged woman, dressed sharply from head to toe, her hair tightly set. Matching her kept attire was her uniform demeanor, evident in her authoritative stride. Sometimes she would lament how much easier her job would be if she was a little taller, or a little older, or even a little heavier; anything at all to make her seem more intimidating to command everyone's respect. As a result, from day one she purposefully tried not to be too friendly to her employees. She never wanted to tamper with the social schism between employer and employee. Surely she would laugh with them, speak with them, and be nice to them, but at the end of the day she made it clear through her creaseless suits and terse demeanor that she was the boss, and she was in charge.
As she approached the desk, the receptionist perkily greeted her, "Good morning Ms. Stevenson. This is the new guy Mr. John Andrews. He says he has a 9 o' clock meeting with you." Turning towards John, she was immediately impressed with what she saw. Physically, he was an undeniably handsome man she thought to herself. He was good looking, but more importantly he was very attractive to her. His eyes gleamed with strength and vitality, as if his eyes permeated with enthusiasm and a luster for life from within his soul. Moreover, she could feel a sense of sincerity about him. So many of her coworkers and employees were as lifeless as the four concrete walls surrounding her, and at times, enclosing her. He on the other hand, he was different. His mere demeanor spoke volumes to her. He was not a man here bound to the dollar and a slave to his apathy. He was a man that seemed to demand more from life. Shaking his hand and looking into his eyes, she could tell that this man was genuinely happy to be here, happy to be alive. She hoped her instincts were correct.
"Mr. Andrews, yes, I spoke to you on the phone last week. You're early. I hope Dawn here didn't bore you too much while you were waiting." The three laughed at that, and smiling, John interjected, "not at all, I found her quite charming to speak with." A hue of deep red shaded Dawn's face, and Ms. Stevenson, also contented by what John had said, added, "Good, I'm glad to know that my employees are getting along well together. Speaking of which, come with me John and I'll show you around the building and introduce you to your other coworkers. I hope you hit it off with them as well as you have with Dawn." Easing up from leaning on the reception desk, John began walking with her towards the elevator and said from his heart, "I'm excited to meet everyone." As they made their way to the elevator, John stole a quick glance back and made eye contact with Dawn. Her eyes wed in harmony with his as they visually said goodbye. He smiled once more at her briefly and then continued on his way with Ms. Stevenson onto the elevator.
