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 a loud man’s voice singing, “Lollipop, lollipop, oooo, lolli, lollipop…”
And again, “Lollipop, lollipop, oooo, lolli, lollipop…”
No one was laughing or responding to his spontaneous, monotone, singing. There is a bowl of Dum Dums on the filing cabinets and he had taken one of the Dum Dum lollipops 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. I 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 tremble like an elderly man, and asked, “Can.. I.. have.. my aid?..”
“Let’s try to get your dad on the phone.”