I'm on the 35th floor of a glass building that looks like it's trying to touch the sky, and every time I come here, I feel kind of strange.
If you ask why, I'd just tell the secretary of the serious-looking woman that I come here at least five times a week to deliver online orders, and then I'd stay quiet.
It didn't matter if the security guard at the door was rude or if the people sharing the elevator with me sighed like I was annoying them; as soon as I saw her, everything changed.
She was beautiful. I'm not exaggerating — she really was. Even someone like me, who expects a lot from others but doesn't care much about himself, didn't have to try hard to be drawn to her.
When I walked through the office door, which always made an annoying creak, I stopped for a moment because of her scent. She was polite and stood up to greet everyone. She was the only person who seemed to still care about people in this cold, glass-and-steel place where I delivered hundreds of packages every day.
Okay, maybe I'm a little biased, but people like her are rare. Everyone else who worked in this glass tower seemed to leave their kindness and patience behind at the door — if they even had any to begin with.
Today was different though — probably the last time I'd see her. That's why I made sure my hair looked good and took an extra deodorant shower before coming in.
When she sat behind the tall desk — where I could only see her eyes — she greeted me again. I had to take a deep breath before I spoke, maybe because I was excited or sad.
She didn't have her hair tied up today. Instead, it fell in big waves over her shoulders. Did she do it on purpose? I took a chance and told her her hair looked really good like that.
I wasn't wrong. Her long, dark hair faded to almost white at the ends, and that little detail completely amazed me. When her hair was tied up, I never saw that. Maybe my compliment was as selfish as it was brave.
While I was finishing the usual delivery steps, we started talking. I suddenly told her that today was my last day because I'd be leaving for language school in Australia soon.
You should have seen her face — she was surprised. Honestly, it surprised me too that she cared so much about something related to me.
We never really talked before except during deliveries. How could she know I left university last year and started working here to save money?
No one except a few close friends knew about that. There was nothing proud about getting beaten by a professor and kicked out of school. Do I regret it? No. If I had to do it again, I'd do the same. Even though I didn't say much, it was a painful experience.
I've never been very strong or brave, but I'm not so weak that I stay silent when I see unfairness.
I quickly pushed those sad thoughts away. Carrying the weight of the past would only slow me down. I fought hard for two years and reached my goal. Now, no one can stop me from starting a new life without worrying about tomorrow.
As I was about to grab the big and small boxes, something happened that I never expected. The woman who attracted me so much shyly handed me her business card.
Can you imagine how I felt? I looked into her eyes as I took the card, and I think she said, "See you on the way out."
When was the last time I felt that kind of excitement? High school? First year of college? I couldn't remember.
The elevator dinged, signaling it had arrived, pulling me back to reality. Even though I felt something sweet inside, my life was full of hard truths.
When the door opened, I leaned against the metal bar in front of the mirrored wall to balance the boxes. Maybe I was taking up too much space, but there was no way I could carry all those boxes down all those floors otherwise.
After a few floors, the door opened again. What if I could just get off here and escape this metal and glass hell?
While I was lost in these thoughts, something I didn't want happened. A group of office workers piled into the elevator, laughing loudly and acting over the top.
No matter how many people I didn't like, they surrounded me like I was trapped in a circus turned into a horror show.
At first, I didn't react much. I even said "Have a nice day" politely a few times after getting off or delivering packages. I wasn't expecting them to be nice back — I just hoped their rude looks would disappear.
But that never happened. My polite words meant nothing to them, like the sound of a fly buzzing.
So I gave up and kept my distance, unlike some senior couriers who tried to get on their good side.
One of those annoying people — who I called the bonus — cornered me by the metal bar as a last-day prank.
This guy fit perfectly with the typical flashy office worker profile in this plaza world. Maybe it was because he thought he was better than the delivery guys or because he refused to wear a suit like everyone else — either way, they were the most aggressive group.
"How many times do I have to tell this company? Outsourced workers are not allowed to use the elevator!"
He kept talking, stumbling over his words, not wanting to miss the chance to get attention from everyone around him. It was a way for him to feel important by putting down people he thought were below him — like me, who was carrying boxes that took up more space than he did.
And don't get me wrong when I say these people don't have much character; they usually aren't very strong either. Today's surprise was exactly like that — the shortest guy in the group, the one who looked the most "inferior," got on the elevator with me.
He was below average height, had slouched shoulders, and his hair was thinning — pretty much standard for these kinds of people. When the others ignored his rude comment about me, he hunched his back even more and told me that trouble was coming.
"Why didn't you take the stairs?"
Of course, he had to insult me directly since I didn't respond.
No one could miss his shouting now. His friends turned toward me, and a small space opened up between us — enough so that I could see him clearly.
This is where experience helps. After dealing with annoying family members for years, I got used to wearing headphones. I wasn't listening to music at the moment, but I clearly heard what he said — though who else would know?
I stood with my back to the door, my face hidden by the boxes I was holding — like a lizard hiding in the wild.
I didn't know it wouldn't be enough, but I wanted to keep the peace and act normal. I even nodded my head a bit, pretending I was listening to music, hoping to survive until the elevator reached my floor.
"I'm talking to you, answer me!"
His finger poked my back — that was the point of no return. I'm patient with words, but I don't like being touched without permission.
I wasn't about to fight over something so small. Since the problem was small, I thought I'd use the fact that he was small too.
Not to brag, but I'm tall — over 190 cm the last time I checked. I'm thin, but my height helps me look bigger.
I guessed the guy bothering me was about 170 cm at most. Without lowering my head or dropping the boxes, I twisted my body and looked straight ahead. The guy was right in front of me, but I pretended I couldn't see him because he was so short.
The arrow had been released from the bow — I took it a step further, took off my headphones, and called out to the other office workers staring at me in surprise.
"Who poked me?"
It would have been easier to ignore the short guy next to me and just ask like that. A couple of people in the group held back laughter. I enjoyed that, but from the strange noise the short guy made a moment later, I could tell he didn't like it.
"Do we have to squeeze in because of you? Elevators are for plaza staff only!"
I didn't even look at him anymore. He stood in front of me like the midday sun, with just a few strands of hair left on his head and wearing a weird striped jacket that made him look taller.
That made it easy for me to end his nonsense rule with a little truth.
"Where does it say elevators are only for plaza staff? The signs I see just mention weight and person limits. I can't bend down with my hands full. Is there a sign about that at your eye level?"
I'm calm and cool, but if someone keeps pushing me, I don't stop until I make them back off.
The guy I was teasing started turning red. A few people had to hold him back as he squeezed his breath. He was clearly offended but still had some fight left in him.
Once you start, you can't slow down — whoever makes the first move usually wins.
"I think you're having trouble breathing because you're stuck in the middle, making you anxious. What a pity. Hey, buddy, help me put this guy on the metal bar so he can catch his breath!"
I said this to a white-collar guy who was watching us with his mouth open, while the short guy below me was losing his mind.
Did I enjoy it? Yeah, I won't lie. What can I say? Like our ancestors said, those who go hunting, hunt.
"Bastard!"
My opponent didn't know what to say. You could tell from his angry tone — he stretched out the "s" sound and almost shouted the "d."
"I'm going to report you to your company. Tell me your name!"
The shouting began. It was time to use the differences in our work status, and I was ready to deliver the second-to-last blow. This kind of threat usually meant the worst was coming next.
"Maybe you didn't see it because it's a little high up, but my name and other info are on the card on my collar. If you ask your friends, they can write it down for you.
Also, you'll probably call before I even get to the office. Could you please ask them to send you a shampoo from the free samples we give out?
When you got so close to me, I couldn't help but notice — your head smells awful. I don't know if it's sweat or oil, but if you wash it, it'll be good for you and everyone around you!"
The next complaint to the company would be some lame excuse to make me look bad. The usual one is saying people who work all day stink.
I admit, some days I was so busy I couldn't take care of myself and wandered around smelling like a perfume store. But today was different — I was going to see my special someone, the delicate butterfly who hasn't yet come out of my heart's cocoon, so I smelled really good, like a fancy perfume aisle.
I guessed the guy who attacked me was right — he did smell bad. But it didn't take long to realize I had hit the jackpot with this insult.
A few female co-workers standing nearby watched us, grimacing in disgust at the man's three thin hairs — like an oasis in a desert.
That was the moment I had had enough. The man who tried to prove his importance by attacking me had caught those disgusted looks.
"I'm going to the administration now, and I'll make sure you never set foot in this plaza again!"
I have to admit, he played his last card in an unexpected way. When he threatened me, he wasn't bluffing — he actually had the power to make it happen.
Too bad he didn't see the real cause of his problems. Too bad I couldn't record the silly scene we had in the elevator, going down a few floors, and make him watch it.
Until his last sentence, neither his movements nor his words seemed like his own. But in the end, cornered and freed from the meaningless pressure of modern life, his basic instincts took over.
I actually respected the guy. In my eyes, he was no longer the weak loser he was when he first got on the elevator. I almost thought about letting it go right there.
But while I was having those thoughts, the kind of naive ideas that always pop up attacked my brain again. I should say now, after everything ended in a fight and my schooling was over, that thinking about it and actually doing it are very different things.
At that moment, I didn't feel guilty — I just couldn't bring that maturity I hadn't yet reached into my environment.
"Bye-bye. You're not going to sleep in this plaza. I'll make sure neither of us walks out comfortably!"
We had played our last cards. Even if he didn't know it was my last day at work, his effort was useless. I'm sure my threat would sit in his heart like a heavy rock.
Not many know this, but there are plenty of people whose "servants" in these glass prisons had beaten them. Their stories get told, and even if they lose their jobs, they add a layer to the armor of the rest of their group.
I slammed my card down on the table without a care, as the elevator bell rang and the doors opened — the look on his face was like a big gulp stuck in his throat.
We finally reached the ground floor. The short guy ran out of the elevator quickly, and his friends followed one by one.
The things I said to him also bothered his friends who watched me make fun of him. Even if they tried to hide it, deep down, they weren't much different from the guy they disliked.
They just hid their weak spots better and took on their roles easily — that's why they felt insecure and ran away.
Luckily, I was good at moving with my hands full and got out before the doors closed again.
I would have known the guy I had argued with passed by from the strange looks on the faces of the guards — the "bad boys" of the delivery workers.
Although the administration was on the opposite side, the guy turned out to be more cowardly than I thought. He ran away so I wouldn't catch him and use violence.
After leaving my last point in style, I walked to the cargo office, humming a song, sometimes whistling or clapping along.
I don't know why, but I remembered the first day I came here. It was like I felt that same embarrassed boredom when I first walked through that door.
After a while, I got used to the situation I was in. Still, this job gave me a lot of experience — things I wouldn't have encountered anywhere else.
I have to admit, at first I struggled a lot with myself. There were times I felt like my job defined who I was, and that caused me many problems.
But after a while, I let go of the kind of enlightenment you read about in fantasy novels. I realized that people define their jobs — not the other way around.
I've held on to this idea for the past year. Maybe this dream wouldn't come true in the country where I was born, but eventually, it would.
A friend of mine from university moved abroad as soon as he graduated. He found a job quickly and gave me hope every time we met.
My plan to go abroad and start fresh was based on these meetings. Finally, I was ready to take the first step toward my goal — I had saved enough money.
My passport, visa, and plane tickets were all ready. Tomorrow, I would leave this life behind and sail away to a place where, if I loved my job, my value would be recognized.
"Where are you, pimp!"
The same greeting every evening. I hadn't thought about this man in a long time, but I couldn't help smiling when I heard those words.
Who else could say something so common like that? Of course, it was Muharrem Abi. Since my first evening at work, this was always how he greeted me — without fail.
At first, I disliked him. But when I got to know him, I left him alone because I realized he was genuinely well-intentioned.
The man had two sons about my age and had visited the office several times. When I heard what he said to them, I considered myself lucky.
His mouth was a bit naughty. Half of what he said was swearing, and the other half was about the body parts of the women he saw during the day.
Maybe it was because all the office workers were men, which explained why the manager got so defensive whenever he wanted to hire a female employee.
Then he quickly came over and told me not to get lost. Some people from the office were going out that evening to drink. It would be a farewell dinner, and they had even booked a place at the fish market in Beyoğlu.