I Fought The Lawn

So I did a little thinking today, and I've concluded that my job is pretty damn alright.

I manage a building in downtown Toronto. We have a number of tenants: Nike, Winners, La Senza, Starbucks, and what I like to call the "frou-frou stores" – Plaza Escada, Guerlain Paris, and Bang & Olufsen. Downstairs, we've got Mega Wraps, Down Under Convenience, and Kaner's Shoe Repair. As a whole, they make up my commercial tenants, and we all seem to get along alright, with the exception of one or two managers here and there who just don't like property management companies for reasons unknown to me. Perhaps a property management firm once ate their babies, or perhaps fucked their moms. I'm really not sure, and I can't see myself asking anytime soon.

My job's simple: I'm to run the building. I don't have a title, thought I suppose Facilities Manager would probably be the closest. This means that my job is half maintenance related and half human resources. On the maintenance side, the actual work is carried out mostly by my small staff: Abdel, my right-hand man and cleaner, who will bend over backwards and do flips through a frickin' hoop if you tell him to, and Danny, who's the most consciencious security guard who ever lived. I tell these two guys (and the rest of their staffs) what to do, and they do it relatively well. On the other side of my job, I'm to keep the tenants happy as best as I can, try to carry out their wishes, and then do the opposite by following the orders of my company. Hey, I know who signs my paycheck. I do my best by everybody, but I only answer to head office when push comes to shove.

So the workload is light for the most part nine-tenths of the time (though I have to handle all the paperwork, contractor coordination, tenant letters and requests, and general office crap), and one-tenth of the time it's a madhouse, which is actually refreshing. It can get tedious and boring sometimes… but I have my own bathroom! That counts for something, right? Well… did I mention that it has a shower? No, I've never used it… uhh… I CAN FIRE PEOPLE! Actually, that's not fun…

Anyhow, I also have my own office. It's sort of Batcave-like, both because it's hidden in the bowels of the building where it's hard to find, and also because it's pretty nifty inside:

I have two desks. Sweet, huh? You'll note my Heat and Reservoir Dogs posters, because you're observant and you have good taste. It's a pretty big office, and while there's obviously no windows at least I get to decorate it as I see fit.

The posters? From left to right, it's The Usual Suspects, Snatch, Army of Darkness, The Boondock Saints, and Kill Bill Vol. 1. So the office is cool and I'm the only one in it, and the workload is easy. There's a good deal of responsibility in the job, because I'm running the show and if it doesn't go on it's my ass, but I can't say I dislike it. Most of the time there's something to do, and when there isn't I have the lesiure of reading or writing something for fun. I've been their six years.

It's bizarre, but if I were single I'd likely have quit by now because I'm not going anywhere from here. My boss Bernie likes me and the job I do enough to keep me around this long, and I've long since gotten the impression that me moving upwards is not something he's really for since it'll make his life harder. But I'm not single anymore, and there's three other people to consider, and I've got bills to pay.

Also, there's a television in my office. That's a plus! Right…?!

- BC

BIG, CLUMSY POSTSCRIPTS: I went to Medieval Times tonight with Tania and the kids, and took pictures. I might throw them up at some point, but here's my favourite: a look at the Rogers Centre from the Gardiner Expressway through my car window at 110 kilometers an hour.