Can Fate be Separated by Glass?

It's not often I get an urge to write my thoughts. And it couldn't come at a more inopportune time than tonight, when I am dead tired and ready for bed. In fact, I am already laying in bed half asleep when it all comes to me. An epiphany if you will.

In our office building, we have an open atrium in the core of the building. In this core, there are 4 glass encased elevators. Anytime one rides these glass elevators, one would be able to take a glimpse into the many different office spaces occupying the 21 floors. The lower floors consist of colorful flooring with matching and/or contrasting partitions and walls. This is the space occupied by J W Thompson, a well known advertising agency. The world of advertising has fascinated me for a long time. The power this medium holds over America and pop culture never ceases to amaze me. It is often I fall victim to well placed branding and marketing campaigns. It gives me that much more appreciation for this art form. It is art because it involves creativity, design, thought, implementation and sometimes controversy. People can view it as beautiful or ugly. But in the end, it is what it is. And as cliche as that sounds, an advertisement in any form of media is art.

For the last couple of months, a certain individual who resides at a desk facing the window adjacent to the elevator caught my eye. What I first noticed about her was her eyes. She was always working with a look of intensity. Always diligent and focused, eyes never straying from her monitor onto the movement of the elevators a mere few feet away from her window. This type of distraction never phased her. Then I noticed her delicate facial features and her long brown hair. It's unfortunate that we will never have a chance to meet on an elevator as I am relegated to the bank that serves the upper floors and she the other. There was one time that we crossed paths, at eye level without being separated by two sheets of glass, and it wasn't until she passed me by that I realized that it was her. I was certain. I was returning to the office after yoga and she was departing, heading to the subway with a companion. I still remember that night very vividly as I am sure that we shared a split second of eye contact between us. I am sure because I like to be aware of my surroundings unlike most New Yorkers who roam around without watching for anything besides a car that would otherwise prevent them from safely crossing a street. Often they are not too good at doing that either. It's also less often that people make eye contact.

Now I find myself looking forward to each time I get a 2-in-5 chance that I will be riding in the glass elevator. To add to those odds, will she even be at her desk? She may be there, perhaps with one of her two Macs often partially obscuring her soft face. I know when she is still around, because her jacket drapes from her silver Aeron chair. There may be a half full bottle of Vitamin Water on her desk. It looks like Essential, the orange one with vitamin C plus calcium. I can tell she definitely works in the creative side, maybe with graphics or layout design. I know because she is issued a Mac and not a PC like some of their other employees use.

Tonight, I felt compelled to assemble all my observations in written form. Why? Because earlier tonight, I had an epiphany of sorts. Tonight, I found out that I may have found a way to an introduction. It seems that I am fellow managers with someone who is married to a former receptionist at this agency.

So why her? I don't even know her name. More importantly, I have no idea what her personality is like. I have no clue whether she is even single or emotionally available. She might not even be straight for all I know. Is this some sort of weird infatuation gone overboard? Could this be construed as borderline stalking? One time, I was on my way out and I saw her putting on her coat. I could have waited a minute or two for her to reach the lobby but I decided I had to go my way. I will let destiny take charge and if we were meant to meet, we will. It doesn't mean I will refuse to use resources at my disposal but I didn't want to force it. That plus the fact that I had no idea what I would even say to her without totally creeping the poor girl out. I put myself in her shoes for a moment and I creeped myself out.

To add to this dilemma, this girl is way out of my league. I just know. It's a fact of life and it's one I've learned to live with. Especially in the past 3 years. It doesn't necessarily mean I have low self-esteem. It just means I am well grounded and have a good sense of reality. Is there a chance for me? I won't rule it out but the bookies will probably put it at 20:1. If you can bet on it, the payout might be good for a short sighted fool.

I know, I know. Simply put, I'm crazy. But I just had to put this out there and you happened to be the hapless victim on the receiving end of it. There you have it, my epiphany of the day. Thanks for listening.