EPISODE 4: Lamont's typical day on the job at the SU

Fiction, by Joe Selmont.

What a wondrous thing, life is. As I strolled out of the Student Union/Bookstore doors, I was greeted by a smiling late afternoon ray of sunshine and a conglomeration of similar clichés: a whistling chickpea bounced between branches, the leaves quivered at a subtle breeze, the sprinklers in front of the Wells Fargo Sports Complex went chkt, chkt, chkt, psssst, and a fat bumblebee lethargically buzzed around the cusp of a flower. I laughed at a litter of kids playing some sort of imaginary game and, instead of proceeding to my locked up bicycle, I walked over to the grassy hill beneath the black, reflective Bookstore windows, dug headphones out of my backpack, flipped through my iPod library until I found Franz Liszt, and sat cross-legged upon the exceptionally green grass, allowing the brooding yet triumphant piano to flow over me. Life, thought I on this beautiful Friday, the end of the first week of school, is a wondrous thing.

My name is Lamont Harpe. Hello. I study French lit at UAA. I also live here. And I work in the UAA Student Union as a Student Manager. Defying all expectations, the school year had begun fantastically. Sure, moving back into the dorms could have been simpler. Sure, I was still in a financial limbo. Sure, one of my new roommates has a really attractive girlfriend, which is unfair. But I met a beautiful lady myself, on the first day of classes no less, and we continued to make flirtatiously awkward small talk all week! Her name is Emmanuelle. She goes by Emmy. And then, you know, all my classes seemed pretty cool. Which is also nice.

But on this particular Friday I did not have classes, so instead I worked all day – or the student-job equivalent of all day: six hours – which I suppose is complaint-worthy, so I’ll go ahead and complain. Okay, here was that day’s highlight reel:

Just another day on the job, illustration by Ted Kincaid.

• I was yelled at by some audacious first year who thought he could get away with using a Student Union locker without paying the reasonable $20 semester fee. Sure, he walked in on me hacking his lock off, but his choice of words were awfully crude. So that happened.
• An impatient young lady with three lip piercings was trying to purchase a ticket to Flogging Molly, but we had just run out of physical copies of the tickets. I tried explaining this to her, but she misinterpreted me and thought the show was sold out. She was on the verge of tears, gushing her longstanding love of the Celtic-punk band, tousling her purple hair with frantic hands, when finally I got through to her. We grabbed some more tickets from the Concert Board office, she bought hers, and, thank goodness, all was well.
• Somehow a teenager got stuck in the janitor’s closet. He was there for several hours before a passing SU employee heard him and unlocked the door. I can’t begin to explain this.
• A half-crazed latecomer showed up to vote in the primary election, which was held on Monday and Tuesday, and kept mumbling about a government conspiracy. I don’t know what his deal was, but in an apparent protest of the status quo, the kook sat down on the tile right in front of the Info Desk and refused to move. An hour later he was escorted out by the University Police.
• That’s pretty much it. Nothing too out of the ordinary, honestly. Oh, and then there was a magical visit from a certain lovely lady. Though I kept an open eye for her, I didn’t notice her approach. She just seemed to appear right in front of me.

“Hi, Lamont,” Emmy said, and then looking to her right, she whispered, “What’s that guy doing on the floor? Should we find him some help?”

"Hey, hello, Emmy. No, UPD is on their way. He’s protesting the government. It’s kind of admirable, actually, but it’s bad for business. Isn’t that right, sir?”

A gruff voice responded, “ It’s those damn time machines!”

“Huh,” said Emmy, biting her lower lip. “I guess you’re right. Hey, Lamont, wanna hear something? Do ya?”

“Heck yes!”

“I just got a job.

“Sweet! Where at?”

“Right here in the Student Union, over at Student Activities. It’s going to be awesome. And we’ll practically be neighbors.

“Alright, Emmy. You, madam, are now a student leader. Welcome to the elite club.”

“Oh har har. Anyways, I’ve tons of paperwork to fill out. Talk to you later.”

“Oh, um, bye, Emmy.” And then I tried to say, “Hey, wait,” but she was already gone. Yet still I was ecstatic. I already had class with this girl twice a week, and now I would be working in the same building with her. If only I could amass the courage to ask her out. Oh well, thought I¸ now there will be plenty of time for that.

I went through the rest of my shift preoccupied with similar thoughts. You met me right as I was getting off, enjoying the world for what it is: a beautiful place. Now… how to work up that courage…