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Lonely Friday
The last few hours of work felt more like a Cheers or Taxi episode than anything else. I went downstairs to my writings system test area thinking I would just checkup on everything before going home and instead wound up hanging out with my operators until seven. The topic of conversation: how to get me to be more social.
So Dave, Fred, Bobby, and Derek alternatively offered their opinions on where I should go to meet people in San Diego. Pretty much, they recommended various clubs. Dave is into synthpop and industrial music, so he gave me his shortlist of places to hang out. Fred mentioned some good places to go for ambient and trance, and Bobby and Derek just joked around about gay clubs and cheesy drunken frat hangouts.
It was such a cozy and friendly setting, the five of us hanging out in our own little corner of HP. I really love my operators. I love owning my own little part of the factory and having my crew to work with. They're great.
They're also temporary employees who will eventually be leaving in a few months as dictated by their agency contract. As I walked out to my car afterwards, I wondered if I'll try to stay in touch with Dave (who I especially like) after he's gone off to work other jobs in far-away reaches of the city. Probably not. That thought suddenly made me really sad, a feeling that even a pot of really good Peet's coffee and my Best of Muddy Waters CD on infinite repeat has yet to dispel.
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