/dev/null

While I was waiting for the elevator this morning, bleary, tired, my sinus's angry and my throat raw from allergies, or a cold, my face puffy from sleep, a women walked in through the glass doors of my building. She was classy, and professional, dressed smartly, as if she were going to an interview. She was in her early 40's and looked ready to face the world. We stood side by side, she and I, waiting for the elevator to arrive, a contrast in opposites. The doors slid open, and I, being closer to the gap, walked in first, turned and asked "Where to?" with a smile. "2 Please" she responded, returning the smile, and the looked me up and down. Me, in my Samba soccer sneaker, blue collard shirt hanging open to reveal a black T-shirt with a skeletal figure standing before a atomic neon green atomic bomb blast, the ear buds of my ipod hanging loosely from the front pocket of my black cargo pants, my hair, styled in the normal, semi spiky way I do it for work. On my back, my backpack with it's arrangement of compact umbrella, carabiner, and random assortment of computing equipment and tools. After taking a good look, she asked;

"Bike Messenger?"

I smiled, "Sys-Admin"

With an air of confusion, she exited the lift.