Second in Command

As you've viewed the spirit animals that comprise our crew, I'm sure you have wondered as to our personalities. Let me start with Wounded Pigeon. He is the most witty person I have ever met in my life. He never misses a beat, which is saying a lot for 5 in the morning. He is now my partner in the potty-mouth gang and we have a riot. As we went about our toilet-cleaning duties, Wounded Pigeon put forth the theory that every work environment must have individuals to fulfill certain roles. One of these roles being that of "The Weird One". Undoubtedly, Wounded Pigeon fills this position on our custodial crew. After all, he is the president of BYU's "nerd" club, so he claims and wears this title with surprising pride. With that said, I turned to Gazelle and asked, "Who would be 'the weird one' on the crew if Wounded Pigeon wasn't on the crew?" Without a nanosecond's worth of hesitation Gazelle said, "You." What? ME? The Weird One?!? I can say in all honesty that I have never been given that label before. At first I was a little befuddled as I tried to recreate the framework upon which I have created my own self-perception. As I somewhat irritably sounded my disdain of this new label, Wounded Pigeon promptly shut my dissent and told me that I should consider the label a compliment, because all that the label means is that in his absence, I would be the one to entertain the crew with my stories, personality, and general oddness. It took a while for that to marinate, but now that I've let is soak in and tenderize, I think that it is an honor to be second in command of "The Weird One" title. May I serve it well. I think...

Bright Lady

My favorite type of Eyring Encounter are what I like to call "cute-old-man" encounters. These are by no means creepy incidents, quite the opposite actually. Often, and for some reason, usually when I am cleaning entry windows, old men will cross my path and compliment my work. (Keep in mind folks that all I'm doing is squirting glass-cleaner onto smudged windows and wiping my a rag in an up-and-down-like motion.) But this is my theory: these sweet old gentlemen were raised in a much more polite society. Saying 'hello' to a perfect stranger was standard procedure. Complementing their work, nothing out of the ordinary. Paying adorable compliments to poor college students, their absolute delight. I have had many such encounters; Carl from Carpentry called me the "prettiest custodian in all of campus", Professor Johnston tells me that he appreciated my happiness, but my favorite, well I don't even know his name.

I was doing my daily washing of the south entrance doors (which frankly are by far the dirtiest of all ESC windows), squatting at the lower windows and this kind old gentleman walked up and this is the rapid-fire conversation that followed:

Gentleman: You are doing a great job!

Me: Oh, why thank you. I appreciate it.

Gent: What's your name?

Me: Kobie

Gent: How many years do you have left?

Me: roughly 2, we'll see.

Gent: Where are you from?

Me: Arizona

Gent: What are your future plans?

Me: I would like to go to law school?

Gent: Oh really? Where at?

Me: I'm not really sure yet. I'll definitely apply here at BYU, Arizona State, back East somewhere.

Gent: Well thank you for making this world a brighter place Kobie. Not only because you clean these windows so well and actually make this place brighter, but because you yourself are a bright person. You brighten this world. You are a bright lady.

It was the most touching Encounter I have had yet. I wish we could all be like this, and see the brightness in others, even if they are just simple, lowly custodians. It made a huge impact on my life.