The Mysterious Button

Curiosity might be one of my exemplary qualities, but it has proven to have a dark and embarrassing side as well. When my inquisitiveness left me staring down the barrel of a gun it may have permanently tempered my nosiness.

Allow me to set the stage.

I was a young college grad; about to start my illustrious career in …. Something…. Due to the ambiguity of my immigration status in the United States, I had not applied for a single job. Out of the blue, the people I nannied for part time as part of my student visa, offered me an amazing opportunity. So, the day after my green card was approved, I started my first professional job. As a homeschooled student from a small town, this job felt entirely like the big time. Working for two lawyers in the state capital processing documents for lawyers too distant to do their own governmental leg work, I quickly embraced the professional role of Customer Service Administrative Assistant. I started the day after graduation, which was also the day my Green Card was finally approved.

My job involved completing government forms for the clients of lawyers in other counties and filing them at the state level. I also served as a messenger retrieving and delivering documents to various state offices. There was an element of intrigue as I got to query the various customers about their exact needs and find the best solutions, which often involved phone calls and visiting multiple government offices.

Prior to the introduction of the public World Wide Web and before the common use of cell phones this company was in fact trying to fill many roles that have since been replaced by the web browser at your fingertips.

It was a late afternoon and I was sitting in my cubicle, in the penthouse suite of our downtown office building. The capitol building was visible from my window and as I gazed up from my pile of papers I realized I was the last one left in the office. Working late downtown was not my favorite, but the few times it had occurred I took it in stride. This meant I needed to finish working, and lock up before heading home. To quiet my slight uneasiness, I wandered back to the break area. I looked in the mini fridge to see if I had left anything yummy to munch on. Nope. I turned to the snack box and found a granola bar that looked suitable. After depositing my 50 cents into the box, I turned to head back to my desk. The sun was beginning to set and the shadows made the parking lot look eerie. I peered out the eastern window and saw my Red Dodge Challenger sitting all alone in one of the spots reserved for us. Glancing at the shelf above the snacks, I saw something that looked like a remote control. “Hmmmm…. I wonder what that is.” I muttered picking up the small device that I had not taken notice of before. I turned it over a few times curiously. Dark grey with no words or symbols anywhere, it had a clip and one big button in the center. Honestly, it looked a bit like a garage door opener but there was no garage associated with our building.

Looking around to verify there was no one to ask about the odd apparatus, I pushed the button. Nothing happened. I pressed it again and looked and listened for any response. Not a thing. “Well that was weird,” I spoke out loud trying to keep myself company. Placing the gadget back on the shelf exactly where I had found it, I strode purposefully back to my desk and tackled the last of my stack of paperwork, forgetting entirely about the button.

As I sat quietly completing my very last form, the door behind me slammed open with a crash. Jumping nearly out of my skin, I spun around to see….. no one there. The hall leading out from our office was dim and empty. My heart pounding rapidly, and my brain firing even faster, I started to stand up and go close AND LOCK the door, when the barrel of a gun appeared around the edge of the opening followed almost immediately by a face. Upon seeing my shock, fear and lack of preparation to defend myself, the face quickly became a full uniformed police officer, Two more officers filed in directly behind him “What is your name?” “Why are you here?” “Is there an emergency?” Their questions came in rapid succession with my very confused answers followed by my own question, “Why are YOU here?....” and then with a gasp, “OHHHHHHHH “ as I realized I must have initiated this alarming visit by pressing that mysterious button.

I sheepishly directed them to the snack room and showed them the device asking if this had indeed contacted the police department. Sure enough. I had apparently called them not only one but three times. With profuse apologies I assured them, I was in no immediate danger. Possibly in danger of losing my job for foolishly pressing a mysterious button. But other than being very embarrassed, I was fine.

Before I even had time to call, my boss had also arrived, with a little less ceremony than the officers. He was gracious and responded kindly to my immense embarrassment and apologies.

The next day he let me know that the department had graciously waived the $300 fee normally assigned for a miscall. WHEW.

Curiosity is still one of my trademarks, but I have *hopefully* learned to temper it with a bit more caution.

A few years after this incident, I saw a humorous Nationwide Insurance commercial (click here to enjoy is with me) about someone playing with a switch that didn't work. It resonated so well, and I may have laughed more heartily than my family as I recalled my own faux pax with a mysterious button.