I had no idea what to expect. It was a first in the last five years. Even though I was focused on being on time to a meeting, I knew I was hiding behind my attention. I was already late. The meeting would proceed without me. I had a great excuse; I had been on a call with my business partner. In my heart, I knew that was not the real reason. There was no particular reason to be late except for my desire to be alone.
I entered the tall building, realizing that I was a stranger. Everyone I knew that was still here was out of town. Reality reminded me that it was unlikely anyone could remember my era. I was, at best, a footnote in the long forgotten corporate history.
The casual sign-in process told me that this was a very different bank. The crowded elevators that gave way to a slightly run down floor of customer conference rooms confirmed the suspicion. As I came in, I noticed that they has skipped the pot of brewed coffee. A bottle of instant and a pot of hot water was all that we had. Fortunately, I had brought my latte with me.
The sterile reception was very different from the greeting I remembered on the wet spring morning eight years ago. My reception then was similar to the character in an old story. In his case, when he got to “Jerusalem, our friends, glad to see us, received us with open arms.” (Acts 21.17)
The meeting was rather pointless. I had booked the day. Forty-five minutes into the session I knew I did not need to be here. The open arms of yesterday had faded into nameless strangers.
I doubt I will ever go back. I will meet friends somewhere else. I think they like it that way. Even though their building is newer, we have hope. I walked back in not caring about the run in the carpet. I think the coffee stains on my office wall from the prior resident are ok.
