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In my job, I’ve seen quite a few things over the past six years or so. Suspended from the roof of a massive building, I’ve watched helplessly as a just-fired business executive jumped from the seventeenth floor and got impaled on the decorative fencing below, I’ve seen several police chases — including one where the getaway car was actually a stolen police car — speeding past that day’s work location, I’ve seen a woman under some guy’s desk clearly giving him head while he was apparently on the phone… and I even once saw a fist fight in a conference room and had to use the walkie-talkie to alert dispatch and have them call in the cops.

Being a window washer is usually mundane, but at least I have the radio to keep me from falling over from the drudgery of it all. Talk radio is my ticket: sometimes political talk, sometimes sports talk (especially during football season).

I usually work with a partner, Ed. He’s a good guy, and he fortunately loves football just as much as I do, although he’s more NCAA while I prefer NFL. He’s really a bit young to be balding already, and his gut proves that he likes his beer — ‘tastes great, less filling’ — but he’s definitely got my back and I’ve got his. That’s what’s most important when you’re twenty-six stories off the ground on a rather windy day.

What really shocked me though was one day in early spring at the ‘bean’ building (seen from above on Google Earth, it’s got the general shape of a coffee bean). We’d just started for the morning on the north side of the building and had just lowered to the next to top floor to start washing the windows. Most of the buildings we go to don’t have windows which open, but that one did. We’d just started our work on that floor when the window directly to my left opened and a well-freckled redheaded babe stuck her head out and looked directly at me.

‘I need a witness,’ she announced.

I was stunned, and when I looked at Ed, he also had no idea what to think about this one. We finally shrugged at the same time and I turned back to face the lady, noting the outline of her bra through her nice yet thin white blouse. ‘I’m game,’ I told her.

‘Go on,’ Ed said. ‘I’ll get this whole floor, but you’ve got the next one.’

‘Deal,’ I agreed over my shoulder, then carefully made my way to and through the open window.

I was in a conference room, my jeans and t-shirt and flannel shirt and basketball shoes — all of which had seen much better days — definitely at odds with the niceties on this side of the glass. I had seen many such business environments before, but always from the outside looking in. It felt so strange to be on the inside looking around, but I tried my best to make her believe that I’d been in this situation before.

‘So what’ll I be witnessing?’ I asked. I was already inside, so I was ‘stuck’ in the situation, but I wanted to at least know what I had just volunteered for.

‘Divorce.’

‘Um… huh?’

‘Here.’ She led the way to the adjacent office, and I recognized it as her office from the picture on the desk of her with a nice-looking young man and a beautiful baby girl sitting on his lap, the girl clearly having the woman’s hair and freckles and the man’s eyes and skin color. She closed the door behind us, and I turned to her, confused, wary.

‘There are several cameras hidden in this office,’ she told me, and instantly I began looking around, trying to spot any of them. ‘You won’t find them. I’m fortunately the only one working in the office today since the main execs are all at a conference in Philadelphia and the usual office assistant is out with food poisoning. So, you’re going to have sex with me, and make it rough.’

‘Whoa! Lady, you’re good-looking, no doubt about it, but I just met you not two minutes ago.’

‘So?’

”So!?!’ I’m not about to get mixed up in a divorce. I don’t intend to be a mistress… or, um…’

‘Look, I’ve finally seen the light about Kenichi but I’m not in a position to file for divorce myself, so I need to make him start that nasty process. Once he starts it, I’ll play it out for a few weeks, but then quickly give in.’

‘What?’

‘You heard me, and you’re part of my ticket to the divorce.’

‘And the cameras are so you can record the sex and have your husband somehow discover the tapes?’

‘This is 2008. Tapes no longer exist.’

I couldn’t believe my ears. I turned back to her desk and picked up the picture. ‘Have you looked at this picture lately? Especially the little girl on your husband’s lap?’

‘So?’

”So!?!’ Again you say ‘So!?!’ What the fuck’s wrong with you, lady? Don’t you have any compassion for your own daughter?’

She didn’t answer, but from her body language, I knew that I’d just struck a chord inside her.

‘I’m heading back outside. You wanna talk, you know where to find me. But I suggest that instead of talking to me, instead of trying to make sex tapes with a stranger, you do those things with the guy in this picture.’ I thrust the picture at her, and it took her a moment to finally take it from me.

Stepping past her, I opened the door and headed back to the conference room so I could go back out the window. ‘I need a beer and it isn’t even Noon yet!’ I said, partly from frustration, but mostly so she could hear it.

When I learned this morning that Ed and I had been assigned to the ‘bean’ building again, I was thinking about that woman and her husband and especially their beautiful daughter. As we lowered to that floor again, I wanted to turn around and jump just so I wouldn’t have to see that inhuman person again. But as I forced myself to peer into the window of her office, I saw that there were two photos on her desk: The same one from before, and another one of her and her husband and their daughter all sitting in front of the big fountain during the July 4 festivities at Treas Park near downtown. I recognized that it was from this year because, in the background of the shot, I saw myself with my niece about to walk together behind the fountain, and this was the first time that my niece had visited during July 4 Weekend.

From window washer to marriage counselor. Now I believe I’ve seen everything in this job.

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Wednesday morning, after I’d returned a couple of ‘urgent’ calls to get them out of the way, I checked my office door was fully closed so Helga couldn’t hear me, and speed-dialed Mel. She’d told me when I checked in with her the night before that she was doing some post-production work that day, so I knew she’d have her phone switched on and be able to answer. It was time to simplify things. I’d pondered and I’d considered and I’d reflected and I’d evaluated – you get the picture – and I’d...

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