So anyway, I get to the security office and peek over the desk. It wasn't a properly lit area; the only source of light was coming from a lamp on the desk. The security officer on duty was leaning back in his chair with his hands folded behind his head. He was facing a corner where a blue light shone on his face. TV, I assumed. He saw me and sat up, turned the TV off.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
"I need a security escort to my car."
"Where are you parked?"
"Overflow lot."
"Overflow," he repeated as he pushed his glasses up higher on his nose. He glanced casually at the larger TV to his left, the screen of which was split into four sub-screens, each showing a different section of the hospital. He picked up his phone and dialed a four digit number. "Yeah, I need a 1308 to overflow." The person on the other end spoke, and the security guard answered, "When is she coming back? ...Okay…Yeah, I'll let her know." He hung up and looked at me. "Can you wait until 2AM? I'm the only one on duty here, and the other security guard is at the front desk covering for the receptionist until she comes back from her break. She should be back around 2."
So much for getting out early. "I'll wait."
The security guard nodded and glanced at the large TV screen again. "There's a bench right there if you want to sit down," he said, motioning vaguely in its general direction. I absently run my thumb across the teeth of the key in my hand as I debated this in my head. Stay in the security office, or in the hallway on the bench? Which is safer? Well, the security guard was a little on the chubby side, and although he was sitting down, I was pretty sure he was a good six inches shorter than I am. Moreover, his hair was graying at the temples, and he looked old enough to be someone's dad. Best-worst case scenario? A psych patient walks in with a pen (which does plenty of damage, mind you), Security Dad ducks behind his metal desk and I run like hell in the opposite direction. That being said, I guessed it didn't make much of difference where I waited; either way it was an every-man-for-himself situation. So I decided to wait on the bench a few yards down the hallway. At least I had phone service there; the security office was a dead zone (kinda ironic, huh?).
I checked my inbox. No new texts. Well, yeah, its 2AM, maybe everyone's asleep. I checked facebook. No new notifications. Okay, so maybe no one's on facebook now. I checked my mailbox. No new e-mail messages. Okay, so maybe-- Alright, alright, so maybe no one loves me. But just in case, I check facebook again. Okay, for sure, no one loves me.
A few Brick Breaker games later and my peripheral vision detects movement. I snap my head up and hold my car key tightly. Its only Security Dad. I scold myself for being a paranoid baby. Then I scold myself for nearly pissing my pants over nothing. Then I scold myself because I need to stop having conversations with myself, dammit! STOP IT, SELF.
"I'll walk you out to your car, miss," he says from where he's standing. I nod and gather my bag and walk a few strides behind him toward the exit. The first thing I notice when we get outside is the sky. It's so clear, with no evidence of the rain it had poured earlier. The second thing I notice is the moon.
"I need a security escort to my car."
"Where are you parked?"
"Overflow lot."
"Overflow," he repeated as he pushed his glasses up higher on his nose. He glanced casually at the larger TV to his left, the screen of which was split into four sub-screens, each showing a different section of the hospital. He picked up his phone and dialed a four digit number. "Yeah, I need a 1308 to overflow." The person on the other end spoke, and the security guard answered, "When is she coming back? ...Okay…Yeah, I'll let her know." He hung up and looked at me. "Can you wait until 2AM? I'm the only one on duty here, and the other security guard is at the front desk covering for the receptionist until she comes back from her break. She should be back around 2."
So much for getting out early. "I'll wait."
The security guard nodded and glanced at the large TV screen again. "There's a bench right there if you want to sit down," he said, motioning vaguely in its general direction. I absently run my thumb across the teeth of the key in my hand as I debated this in my head. Stay in the security office, or in the hallway on the bench? Which is safer? Well, the security guard was a little on the chubby side, and although he was sitting down, I was pretty sure he was a good six inches shorter than I am. Moreover, his hair was graying at the temples, and he looked old enough to be someone's dad. Best-worst case scenario? A psych patient walks in with a pen (which does plenty of damage, mind you), Security Dad ducks behind his metal desk and I run like hell in the opposite direction. That being said, I guessed it didn't make much of difference where I waited; either way it was an every-man-for-himself situation. So I decided to wait on the bench a few yards down the hallway. At least I had phone service there; the security office was a dead zone (kinda ironic, huh?).
I checked my inbox. No new texts. Well, yeah, its 2AM, maybe everyone's asleep. I checked facebook. No new notifications. Okay, so maybe no one's on facebook now. I checked my mailbox. No new e-mail messages. Okay, so maybe-- Alright, alright, so maybe no one loves me. But just in case, I check facebook again. Okay, for sure, no one loves me.
A few Brick Breaker games later and my peripheral vision detects movement. I snap my head up and hold my car key tightly. Its only Security Dad. I scold myself for being a paranoid baby. Then I scold myself for nearly pissing my pants over nothing. Then I scold myself because I need to stop having conversations with myself, dammit! STOP IT, SELF.
"I'll walk you out to your car, miss," he says from where he's standing. I nod and gather my bag and walk a few strides behind him toward the exit. The first thing I notice when we get outside is the sky. It's so clear, with no evidence of the rain it had poured earlier. The second thing I notice is the moon.
It's the Cheshire Cat Moon! The real one, not the sideway one, like this:
Or upside down one, like this:
No, this was the real, legit one.
Perfect.
I suddenly get this need to share it with someone. I look around. Just me and Security Dad. But I don't care, this is The Cheshire Cat Moon, and I'm sharing it dammit!
"You ever hear of the Cheshire Cat?" I ask him, walking a little faster to match his stride. For a short man, he walked pretty fast. Or maybe I just walk slow.
He looks a little caught-off-guard, like he wasn't expecting a conversation, and I secretly smile smugly. He probably thought this was gonna be a quick and quiet walk to over flow lot, but just his luck he got stuck with my annoying self.
"The what?" he asks.
"The Cheshire Cat," I repeat. "You know, the cat from Alice in Wonderland? You ever see that movie?"
His brows are knit together in confusion and he looks at me. I don't say anything, I just point at the moon. He looks in the direction I'm pointing at and the furrows in his eyebrows and in his forehead smooth out. "Ohhhhhhh!" he says, and he starts laughing. "I seen that movie with my kids!" He laughs again and keeps looking at the moon. "The cat that disappears, huh?"
I nod with a grin. "Yup, that's The Cheshire Cat Moon. Y'know, 'cause it looks like--"
"The cat's smile, right?"
"Exactly."
The rest of the walk was pretty quiet, except for one or two comments about the weather, but I didn't care. I saw The Cheshire Cat Moon and so did Security Dad, and maybe he'll go home and tell his kids about it.
I suddenly get this need to share it with someone. I look around. Just me and Security Dad. But I don't care, this is The Cheshire Cat Moon, and I'm sharing it dammit!
"You ever hear of the Cheshire Cat?" I ask him, walking a little faster to match his stride. For a short man, he walked pretty fast. Or maybe I just walk slow.
He looks a little caught-off-guard, like he wasn't expecting a conversation, and I secretly smile smugly. He probably thought this was gonna be a quick and quiet walk to over flow lot, but just his luck he got stuck with my annoying self.
"The what?" he asks.
"The Cheshire Cat," I repeat. "You know, the cat from Alice in Wonderland? You ever see that movie?"
His brows are knit together in confusion and he looks at me. I don't say anything, I just point at the moon. He looks in the direction I'm pointing at and the furrows in his eyebrows and in his forehead smooth out. "Ohhhhhhh!" he says, and he starts laughing. "I seen that movie with my kids!" He laughs again and keeps looking at the moon. "The cat that disappears, huh?"
I nod with a grin. "Yup, that's The Cheshire Cat Moon. Y'know, 'cause it looks like--"
"The cat's smile, right?"
"Exactly."
The rest of the walk was pretty quiet, except for one or two comments about the weather, but I didn't care. I saw The Cheshire Cat Moon and so did Security Dad, and maybe he'll go home and tell his kids about it.
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