Bad Day

The only thing that saved my Thursday was Mom’s arrival. Other than that, it was a day I’d just as soon have skipped.

I saw a woman commit suicide in the Hyatt Regency yesterday afternoon. I was there for a quick work meeting for my part-time job in the lobby bar. Just as we were about to leave, this horrible loud noise happened. I thought it was a gun shot and I was about to duck. Instead, I looked over and saw, not twenty feet from where I was sitting, a woman lying on the floor.

It took everyone just a few seconds to realize she had jumped from a balcony about 8-10 stories up, and she was unquestionably quite dead.

Amazingly, there was very little panic. I think everyone was just a little stunned. No one would go over to her, I guess because no one wanted to discover the obvious. A woman behind us was sort of hysterically screaming, but it was almost as if no one else had noticed.

Finally a security guard went over and felt for her pulse and all and then just left her there for a minute. Eventually someone came and covered her up. Then they asked us to clear the area, which we were more than happy to do, but couldn’t seem to commence without the suggestion.

It was one of the creepiest things that’s ever happened to me and I was already a little edgy from not sleeping well the night before. The drive to SFO to pick up my mom worried me a little, but I was fine. And I was really glad when her plane landed. I wanted my mommy.

Rather makes the fact that some uninsured speed freak ran into my car later last night seem insignificant in comparison.

I’m enjoying Friday considerably more than Thursday, thanks…