Five mornings per week for the past year, I run the steps at the regional county courthouse (about 40 minutes per visit). The design of the building includes two extremely wide flights of stairs (28) that lead to a large platform and many doors that happen to be locked at all times. After September 11, the courthouse changed the entrance to a ground level door armed by a security guard and a metal detector. There are signs outside the courthouse telling visitors that there is “No Entrance at the Top of the Stairs.” The problem is that at least half of the courthouse patrons do not see the sign and begin their ascent up those 28 steps.
During my year at the steps, most of the workers acknowledge me as they walk into the building, as I’ve become a “regular.” I have stopped hundreds of people from wasting their time and energy hiking those stairs in the heat only to discover they cannot enter the building that way. I’ve stopped a pregnant woman who appeared to be ready to give birth, wearing spiked heals from walking up the stairs, a morbidly obese man who had a hacking cough, a very old lady with a cane, a woman with several tiny children, people who cannot speak English and whose language I cannot speak either. And the list goes on. Most of these people are so grateful for not having wasted their energy that they thank me profusely. I also answer countless questions while running:
- Q.What time is the courthouse open? A. 8:00 am.
- Q. What room do I go to for a new passport? A. 2nd floor. Turn left.
- Q. Is the courthouse open on President’s Day? A. Nope.
- Q. Where do I vote? A. Not here. Go east down this boulevard (as I point in that direction) one and a half miles and turn into the library parking lot on the left.
- Q. Why on earth do you run up and down these steps? A. It seems as though I like to punish myself.
And the list goes on.
Today when I saw the security guard there, I told him that I thought it would be appropriate for the county to pay me for my work, since I have assisted so many visitors. Well that generated a big laugh from him. And then it made me think about all the times I’m not running stairs and visitors are unnecessarily climbing up and down those steps and have questions but there’s no one there to help out. Somehow these people survive without my assistance.
For the man who refused to stop blowing smoke up my nose while hovering around the steps I was running, despite my kind request, I somehow neglected to tell him there was no entrance up there.