I was working at my computer on some training videos this afternoon, when a guy stepped into the lobby and asked about the status of his financial aid. I was tuning him out for the most part until a few minutes later, I heard his loud singing voice, “Lollipop, lollipop, oooo, lolli, lollipop…”
And again, “Lollipop, lollipop, oooo, lolli, lollipop…”
No one was laughing or responding to his spontaneous, monotone, singing. There was a bowl of Dum Dums lollipops on the filing cabinets and he had taken one and started eating it while a coworker pulled up his file on the computer. The reception area is in a fairly small lobby and then behind the lobby, past a doorway, is a long hallway of counseling offices where the specialists work with their office doors wide open.
“How can I help you?”
The guy answered, “I need to know the status of my fucking application.”
I paused. I raised my eyebrows, then furrowed my eyebrows.
“I turned in my shit and I got an email saying it wasn’t fucking approved. Do I have to wait until I’m 400 years old until I get my aid!?”
He extended his arm out to the specialist, making his flat open hand shake like an elderly man and, in a trembling voice, asked, “Can.. I.. have.. my aid?..”
“Let’s try to get your dad on the phone.”