Now that I’m full time, I get to take a legit lunch break. I thought that perhaps this would be a good time to venture outside of the building and try to learn something about the city in which I’ve lived my whole entire life. I mean, at the very least it might help to know what street I work on. (And help snuff out future jury duty-spawned directional meltdowns.)
It was kind of a big deal. Several people even said out loud, with mild interest, “Oh wow. Erin is leaving her desk.”
Barb (SHE’S BACK IN CASE YOU DIDN’T CATCH THAT YESTERDAY) suggested, “You could go to [foreign place] to get a map.” But then after we stared at each other stupidly for two seconds, she added, “But I guess you would need a map just to get there in the first place.”
So today, Carey offered to take me under her wing. I guess I’m her new project, and I’m OK with that. I need all the help I can get.
Before I left, Nina wished me luck and then reminded me to take my phone in case I got lost.
“Don’t worry, Carey’s going with me!” I assured her, and she looked sincerely relieved.
In the plaza area outside of our building (which I’ve walked through once before I even worked there but had no idea!), Carey showed me places where I could stand and smoke if I ever decide to give back nicotine that old best friend charm.
Then we saw Pirates fans en masse and a half-demolished building, which was pretty nice. Carey promised me it’s not always that crowded out there, which is good because god only knows what picture Henry would submit to the milk carton people.
Carey deemed Market Square a good starting point, but I think it was just because she wanted to go to the gyro place. Boyz II Men’s seminal hit “I’ll Make Love To You” was pouring sexily from the ceiling speakers when we walked in, which seems like an awkward soundtrack for ordering lamb, but I think I was the only one noticing this.
“We’ll go back a different way,” Carey said, informing me what streets our building sits on. (I already forgot.)
“Oh!” I exclaimed. “There’s that half-demolished building again; I sort of know where we are!”
“Ok,” Carey said slowly. “But don’t use that as a landmark because it’s clearly not always going to be there.”
“You can see our building down there.” Knowing that I would need a little more than that, she added, “It’s big. And red.”
On Tuesday, we’re going to walk toward the Convention Center, whatever that means.
I feel like I should have bought some souvenirs while I was out, like an I <3 Pittsburgh pennant. But I wouldn't know where to go to get something like that. Back in the office, Carey's gyro stunk up the place, but all the meat-eaters kept remarking in sleazy porn-voices about how divine it smelled.