Maybe the Cover of My Own Book Isn't So Pretty...

My job.  Have I mentioned that I love it?  In addition to my amazing coworkers and boss, I love what I do as well.  However, an added plus is the fact that I take a morning and afternoon recess in addition to my regular mid-day lunch break (this is true for many employees here, though not all of them).  There are a number of cafeterias in my building-- for morning "recess" (as I so affectionately refer to it), we almost always head to the cafeteria down our hallway.  My coworkers and I usually crowd around our own round table, drink our coffees, eat our breakfasts, and gab with each other-- but you can't help but take a gander every so often around the (small) cafeteria at the others who are also just beginning their day. 

And usually we see the same group of people there at the same time, day after day.  There's the group of very attractive electrician contractors (some of my personal favorites), and there's the three or four gentlemen who drink their coffee after divvying up the morning paper amongst themselves.  There's the group of production people who, every so often, have a morning potluck, complete with crock pots of very yummy-smelling food.  There's the lady who steams a bag of broccoli in the microwave (which, in turn, stinks up the entire area).  It's a great place to people-watch.

There's one man (who I don't personally know, by the way) who shows up every morning and sits with the same group of people.  I'm ashamed to say that, until just a couple days ago, I would see this man, middle-aged, with his arms covered in tattoos, complete with long, scraggly hair and beard, and I would make my own assumptions about him.  Then I made a point to actually watch him the other day.  This guy, who sits with all women, gets to the cafeteria before the rest of them arrive.  He rummages through the cooler (where employees keep their lunchbags) and pulls out a bunch of pink and purple lunchbags.  Then he goes around the table and sets each lunchbag down, with a napkin and silverware next to it.  Then his female coworkers sit down and enjoy their breakfast at their already-prepared table settings.  And he does this every day, with a smile on his face.

Don't we all wish we could work with an obviously caring gentleman like Mr. Tattoos?  I feel terrible that it took me almost 6 months to actually look at this guy and see how genuinely kind he is toward his coworkers.  Stupid, simple lesson for me-- something that was pounded into our heads when we were kids:  Don't judge a book by its cover.  This guy's cover seems a little ragged and beat-up.  And, granted, I haven't actually read the book yet, but the table of contents looks promising.  That'll teach me.  Suddenly my own cover feels a little ragged.