It's not often that I get to see lightning-fast reaction time or the instinct to save someone's life. I mean, I don't hang out much at hospitals anymore, and the streets of Katy, TX don't even call out for attention, much less heroic action. I suppose I can counter that with the Great Coyote Massacre of 2007, which was so traumatic for so many families that lost their beloved cat, or other rodent pet. But, this past Thursday I left Katy to go to work, and immediately plunged into a situation that called for a hero upon entering the doors. Someone with laser focus, ice water in their veins, and a considerable testicular fortitude.
I was behind the counter flirting, really aiming for a $0.50 tip, ya know, to pad my son's college fund, when I was pulled to the lobby to investigate the trash situation. Pretty standard. The lobby was a mess. Customers had left their trash on the floor next to several tables, and some of them even left trash on top of the trash cans. What must be understood is that this is no ordinary café, the standards of which are increasingly tight since Robin threw coffee in the face of a regular. Who is Robin? Well, she's gone now. Um, excuse me... but, I asked for 1/5 pump mocha; I'd appreciate if you would make it how I ordered it.... I suppose the actual reason is that it is River Oaks in Houston. Ken Lay lived here, alright? Lambo's and Ferrari's are commonplace (though there was a maroon Chevy Malibu that stayed in the lot, stalled out, for 3 months). I was sure the first time I rolled through their neighborhood in my '97 Saturn with the dead engine, that I would be subjugated in umbrage and dissent at my arrival. I do spit shine the hubcaps every Tuesday or Wednesday or Monday. But, I slipped through undetected because it was in fact, my car that made me invisible.
I've wanted to speak with some of the more cripplingly-addicted-to-themselves customers, but I couldn't even raise a cabal to get Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance out of the Buddhism section, so I guess I need this job more than to put the paying customer in their place. Ich liebe die amerikanischer Konsumer! So, I continued around picking up trash and replacing trash bags when I finally get to put the magazines away. The rack is close to the café, so it is unofficially our jobs to pick up the strays in the lobby. It's comforting, until you read the headlines on some of the magazines. Why We'll All Be Communist Before 2020; Underemployment 101; Diabetes: A Pandemic; etc... I made my way to the racks and placed each magazine in its home, until I got the bottom, when I always put it in a place that it blends with. Then it could have been anybody. I've only been caught once. All of a sudden, and this was truly startling, I hear a THUD! I turn and see an elderly gentleman on the ground, twitching a bit,the tile below his head turned incarnadine. I stood, frozen, staring at the felled man, and of course, with my mind, I attempt to clear the area, to give the guy some room. The manager behind the counter stands for a moment and then reaches for the phone, yelling into the receiver at the 911 operator. The other man at the registers picks up the phone and calls for a doctor in the store, hangs up, and calls for all the managers to gather at the front registers. I look back to the café where I see my co-worker, Terra, jump over the faux granite counter and sprint to the front of the store. As she passed me, I smelled a little hero in the air. My manager followed closely behind her and tapped me on the shoulder. "Go take care of the register." "Really, now?" "Look at it over there...." I looked into the lobby and saw upwards of 15 people sitting, continuing their business, some laughing on their phones. I looked back to my manager and walked to the register, where a line had formed.
"Can I help you?" I ask, though my attention is obviously on the scene taking place at the front of the store. Terra was vigorously pumping the mans chest and checking his air flow. It didn't look good. She had gotten a little of his blood on her pants, and as she wiped her forehead and took off her hat, she smeared a little across her cheek. All the while, the customer continued ordering her drink and I missed it. "Sorry, could I get that again... it's just so distracting...." "What is?" I point to the front of the store. "Oh... right. Can I get a Venti...." and she trails off as my mind goes back to the front of the store, led like a magnet to its opposite. After she finished, I rang up whatever I thought she might want and made it. It turned out not to be what she wanted, but ladies came to the counter asking for bags of ice, which I was more than happy to help with. After I filled the ice bags, I fell in the back because I had missed with most of the ice. It melted on the floor and I don't wear slip-resistant shoes.
"Can I help you?" "Yeah, hi, can I get a Grande...." Once again my focus diverted back to Terra pumping that man's chest, continuously, at what seemed like a fruitless task. After ten minutes, the man had not regained oxygen, but the paramedics had arrived to a frantic wife and the man's children. They worked on him for another 30 minutes. The line had died down, but there was a woman that had placed her computer and notepad down in the lobby when the man had first fallen. She walked in, glanced at the scene unfold, and continued to her table. She then walked around the store, interrupting a bookseller trying to help the man, and aimlessly wandering from section to section without picking anything up. She then returned to her table and typed a few things, the man still on the ground, paramedics furiously trying to save the man's life.
After an hour of paramedic help, they got him up and moved him out of the store into an ambulance. People said he looked good, but I couldn't tell because that woman got up and ordered drinks for her whole family just as they left. I stared at her, not really with evil eyes or mad-doggin', I just gave her a simple tip of the cap for being the most oblivious person on Earth. When she finished ordering, I said, "It's pretty sad. Poor guy. His wife was here and everything..." "What?" "The guy... he nearly died. He could possibly die even at the hospital." She looked at me like a Valley Girl might stare at me. Contempt. "Do you waste everyone's time like this? Make my drinks!"
I walked in the back and tagged in my peer washing dishes, pushing responsibility onto him. I took off my apron and went outside to smoke one last cigarette before I quit.