Recently, I've reconnected with people of my past which has been fantastic. Especially, when you make that #rainbowconnection - Having said that, this usually will unlock memories of the past as well. My latest reconnection was actually a reconciliation that took place before either of us were dead.
I'm so grateful, too, as we had regrettable falling out. All too often this happens way after the fact. In fact I'm losing my point. For some reason that unlocked this memory I've stored for 17 years.
Maybe because my relationship with her was during my teenager years? HM.
I digress.
It was 1999, and no we didn't party like #itslike1999 late November. Although, one would think with the media coverage that it was New Year's Eve instead of the WTO (World Trade Organization) Riots aka The Battle of Seattle.
On the morning of the day, I knew that there was some buzz about the WTO Meeting on the news. And that there were would be active protestors. What I didn't realize was what the Gods of Lunacy had planned for me.
I was working for Rosenbluth Travel, and the Bank of America and Banc of America Securities LLC, in (yes, you guessed it) in the Bank of America Tower which now known as the Columbia Tower.
It was another run-of-the-mill, garden-variety, kinda day at the "salt mines". Or so I thought. Once I clocked in, and jumped into the phone queue for the inbound call center, my supervisor addressed the group.
"Alright, people. Good morning. As you already seen, we have protestors active outside the convention center because of the WTO Meeting. While we are watchful, we are not concerned, yet. I wouldn't suggest leaving the building for lunch because while the WTO has nothing to do with us, they could view all of corporate America a target. And we represent not just Rosenbluth International, but Bank of America.
Your safety is our priority. If the situation escalates and changes, we'll advise on the next course of action. That's all for now."
We, the call center rats, all exchanged worried looks. #WTF on that speech? I shrugged my shoulders, and went about my business of answering calls.
Later on that day ...
The situation did escalate! An anarchist group from Portland started fighting with the Seattle P.D. Then some mob-mentality rioters used this as an excuse to join the fray. The supervisor returned.
"Alright people. The situation has escalated. I've been authorized to shut down the call center and shunt the calls to the East Coast. Please gather up your belongings and head home as safely and as best as possible. Good luck."
Well, I take the 311 bus so I checked out the Metro webpage. I discovered that the division line south of my location is South Jackson St, and Olive Street to the north. And here I am smack in the middle of this "dead zone" of service due to rioters.
Thanks a ton!
I call my girlfriend. She was concerned. After a brief discussion, a mutual friend of ours happened to be working downtown today, and he drove. He and I set up a pick up point a block south of the Columbia Tower.
This man, while he saved me today, will eventually betray me with an affair and marrying the girl.
As I made my way to the elevators, I peered outside to the streets below some 38 stories down.
The rioters have made an ant-like column towards the Seattle P.D. H.Q. which is located right across the street from the tower! These idiots are trying to overcome the police home base? Are you kidding me with this?
So that's the equivalent of kicking over a hornet's nest. That meant, I needed bounce out ASAP, and the exits are near all that activity.
I scampered out and headed south to Cherry St. Several dark clothed people were running rampant, smoke filled the air, and so much yelling. As I waited for my friend to find me, I looked around. I didn't realize it but I gravitated towards my favorite sandwich place: Bakeman's Restaurant.
They make fresh turkey sandwiches on the daily! Some asshat had broken the window with the logo on it. "Damnit," I cursed. This is senseless. I return my eyes to surveying the scene, and my friends Jeep rounds the corner. I'm saved.
There was no way I'll be able to get to South Jackson Street amongst the chaos with a shirt and tie which was a virtual bull's eye on me. And traveling north anywhere near the downtown interior wasn't an option, either.
Me: "Thanks, man. What the fuck on this Battle of Seattle! It's in full effect. I appreciate the emergency evac."
Him: "No problem. Happy to help. You owe me. Maybe you can repay the favor in the future."
Little did I know that in the future, I would marry the girl and he would actually do me the favor of by taking her out of my life.
I guess I owe that guy two? Life's funny like that, isn't it?
'los
I'm so grateful, too, as we had regrettable falling out. All too often this happens way after the fact. In fact I'm losing my point. For some reason that unlocked this memory I've stored for 17 years.
Maybe because my relationship with her was during my teenager years? HM.
I digress.
It was 1999, and no we didn't party like #itslike1999 late November. Although, one would think with the media coverage that it was New Year's Eve instead of the WTO (World Trade Organization) Riots aka The Battle of Seattle.
On the morning of the day, I knew that there was some buzz about the WTO Meeting on the news. And that there were would be active protestors. What I didn't realize was what the Gods of Lunacy had planned for me.
I was working for Rosenbluth Travel, and the Bank of America and Banc of America Securities LLC, in (yes, you guessed it) in the Bank of America Tower which now known as the Columbia Tower.
It was another run-of-the-mill, garden-variety, kinda day at the "salt mines". Or so I thought. Once I clocked in, and jumped into the phone queue for the inbound call center, my supervisor addressed the group.
"Alright, people. Good morning. As you already seen, we have protestors active outside the convention center because of the WTO Meeting. While we are watchful, we are not concerned, yet. I wouldn't suggest leaving the building for lunch because while the WTO has nothing to do with us, they could view all of corporate America a target. And we represent not just Rosenbluth International, but Bank of America.
Your safety is our priority. If the situation escalates and changes, we'll advise on the next course of action. That's all for now."
We, the call center rats, all exchanged worried looks. #WTF on that speech? I shrugged my shoulders, and went about my business of answering calls.
Later on that day ...
The situation did escalate! An anarchist group from Portland started fighting with the Seattle P.D. Then some mob-mentality rioters used this as an excuse to join the fray. The supervisor returned.
"Alright people. The situation has escalated. I've been authorized to shut down the call center and shunt the calls to the East Coast. Please gather up your belongings and head home as safely and as best as possible. Good luck."
Well, I take the 311 bus so I checked out the Metro webpage. I discovered that the division line south of my location is South Jackson St, and Olive Street to the north. And here I am smack in the middle of this "dead zone" of service due to rioters.
Thanks a ton!
I call my girlfriend. She was concerned. After a brief discussion, a mutual friend of ours happened to be working downtown today, and he drove. He and I set up a pick up point a block south of the Columbia Tower.
This man, while he saved me today, will eventually betray me with an affair and marrying the girl.
As I made my way to the elevators, I peered outside to the streets below some 38 stories down.
The rioters have made an ant-like column towards the Seattle P.D. H.Q. which is located right across the street from the tower! These idiots are trying to overcome the police home base? Are you kidding me with this?
So that's the equivalent of kicking over a hornet's nest. That meant, I needed bounce out ASAP, and the exits are near all that activity.
I scampered out and headed south to Cherry St. Several dark clothed people were running rampant, smoke filled the air, and so much yelling. As I waited for my friend to find me, I looked around. I didn't realize it but I gravitated towards my favorite sandwich place: Bakeman's Restaurant.
They make fresh turkey sandwiches on the daily! Some asshat had broken the window with the logo on it. "Damnit," I cursed. This is senseless. I return my eyes to surveying the scene, and my friends Jeep rounds the corner. I'm saved.
There was no way I'll be able to get to South Jackson Street amongst the chaos with a shirt and tie which was a virtual bull's eye on me. And traveling north anywhere near the downtown interior wasn't an option, either.
Me: "Thanks, man. What the fuck on this Battle of Seattle! It's in full effect. I appreciate the emergency evac."
Him: "No problem. Happy to help. You owe me. Maybe you can repay the favor in the future."
Little did I know that in the future, I would marry the girl and he would actually do me the favor of by taking her out of my life.
I guess I owe that guy two? Life's funny like that, isn't it?
'los
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