Originally posted 01.26.2006

So, I went to the gym last night to redirect my monthly payments to a different account. This was taken care of by a staff member I’ve seen there in the past—pleasant, friendly, maybe a little too friendly. I’ve always been a little on my guard around him because I feel like he’s either trying to flirt with me or sell me something. But last night was a little different. He was pretty deflated. Still nice, even friendly, but the sort of perkiness I associate with him was just gone.

It turns out he’d done some damage to small bones in the ball of his foot while running around in street shoes during the strike. Now he has to wear well-cushioned shoes and lay off high-impact activities for a couple of months. So he was wearing sneakers, in a gym, mind, and he got yelled at by a superior because sales staff, or whatever he is, aren’t supposed to wear sneaks to work. In a gym!

On top of that he’s just got the winter blues. He grew up in Guyana, and he’s really struggling with the low light and the cold of even this mild winter. New York itself isn’t agreeing with him either. I know this because he said so, and also because he’s identified me several times as a really nice person, as someone who stands out as nice.

This is a little surprising to me, because I don't feel as though I’m particularly nice, especially not lately. Polite, sure, but nice? I spent four hours in a conference room yesterday trying to figure out how to trip the sprinkler system so I could escape—wondering if I’d survive an 8th floor defenestration.

Whatever. I feel kind of bad knowing that this guy’s been treated so shabbily that the absence of a scowl or harsh words makes a person nice.