The cake didn’t go so well with Toby’s nut allergy. After he started coughing and easing his swollen neck with two sips of ouzo we commenced out tour with Galen and Janis. We already had a look at the upper floor, but the other ones are new to us. This building doesn’t solely include the Police, but also every other facility that helps you solving criminal cases. Very practical, the way you look at it. There is the examination centre, where both of them greet some people, then we arrive at the department for the IT- and communication specialists, such people that receive emergency calls and gather information that is no easily available on the internet.
That’s where we meet Mike. He wears sweat pants, an orange t-shirt with a Pegasus on it, a Cap with the logo of a rapper, a way too big pair of horn-rimmed glasses and with his full beard he looks like a Nerdhipster.
Currently he is speaking into a headset, which hangs on his ear, tiny and stylish. We don’t want to interrupt him in his call, so we keep our distance and wait.
“Yes, sure… but when he tells you to do it, you have to do it… Yes, that is an expectation… You know that… No… I told you… No… Yes! You’ve finally got it! Next time you’ll be in on it, okay? Otherwise I’ll reprogram you!”
He presses a button on the device and turns around.
“You are the newbies!” I have no idea how he knows that. Though I can imagine, that he is able to find out everything, because he knows where to look for it. “Alright, let me introduce you to the system right now. I have many other things to do as well.”
We sit down on two chairs, which don’t seem to be made for dismissal talks. He thrusts us a pair of headsets in our hands.
“A long time ago I called my child Norman.” Toby, who helped me attaching the headset to my ear, began struggling as I lifted my head to ask Mike why he is talking about his child.
“No, Norman is not my literal child, es is an Artificial Intelligence, that lives in my Computer. I programmed him and he works like a living person, learns new things, develops interests and he is accessible at any time for questions. Okay, I’ll explain it to you shortly.
Step 1: The button turns it on and off.
Step 2: Give him an order and he will fulfil it as good as he is capable to do so. You can make phone calls and use other features. Discover it yourself.”
“That’s all?”, Toby asks in disbelieve. Mike nods vividly: “Now let’s take a picture for our Facebook page!” He takes his phone. Toby and I look at each other dumbfounded and try to look as representative as possible. After Mike uploaded the picture to the world wide web, where it can never be removed, our tour continued.
There is also a department where corpses of murders or assassinations get stored and exanimated. The civil police station takes up to two floors, otherwise there wouldn’t be enough space for the active business. Police Officers and civilians lead the traffic without streets, signals or road signs, which is causing chaos everywhere. I’m glad I don’t work here. I mean you are spending the day with roadside checks, issuing cautions to neighbours for noise disturbance and at night you arrest rioting Alcoholics on the streets.
…
I almost started working here, if I hadn’t met Marcos. Back then I wanted to be a patrol officer where I met him in the academy during our training. During that time, I didn’t have many friends and my wellbeing was over the hill, since I just moved away from my home in Thessaloniki to Athens.
To be exact my homeland is Austria, but many years ago my dad decided to move to Thessaloniki with his Greek wife, me and my sister. When the apprenticeship started I rented a small apartment in the district of Nea Ionia. It really is nothing special, except for the coffeeshop at the corner of the street, that one’s the best. However, it was Marcos ambition to work for the international police and after he told me about all pro and cons of this job, us slowly becoming best friends, by helping each other with our weaknesses, I followed his footsteps. Marcos always seemed to be the only person I can hang out with for more than five minutes without getting annoyed. It could not be better and I’m looking forward to what we can expect.
The lobby is my favourite room so far. Today at our arrival I didn’t pay attention to the real Palm trees and comfortable armchairs, who are most definitely not here to fire someone. In the middle of the staircase which leads on both sides to my favourite elevator, the only thing I was able to properly inspect, the reception is located, where a particularly attractive secretary I seated.
Immediately I had to think of my single life, that contains eating, sleeping and gaming. Maybe now I can turn my life around, start being more self-confident and desirable by working here and solving cases. Now I need to make up a spectacular first impression, but it’s too late we already reached the desk.
“Morning, Lucy!”
“Morning? It’s almost noon. Who are those two?” She looks up from her notes. Then she sees Marcos. “Oooh, it’s you, the one that was being late this morning and your friend here too. I guess the boss gave you a real bawling-out.” Her sweet laughter echoes through the Lobby. What she said wasn’t very nice, but I assume that’s just her humour. So, with a clever move I try to get closer to the queen and start laughing with all my heart. Laughing together we radiate some kind of harmony, though seeing the look Marcos is sending me, I have to rethink my strategy and do more to win her over.
“Uuh, yeah he was so angry, he didn’t even tell us his name.”
“Sweet of you for laughing at my joke, normally no one thinks I’m funny. About his name, imagine we are at a meeting, nobody knows his name, because he doesn’t introduce himself properly and everyone is looking at me as if I am the one who has to tell them. In case you are talking with him again, remember that his last name is Krupakis.”
Above a voice calls out. “Are you talking about our coffee machine?”
Another nameless person from our inauguration party staggers with his hands in pockets down the stairs.
“Did you get any mail for us Lucy?”, he asks and stares curiously at the space behind the counter. She searches in the drawers, between stacks of paper and under her desk, then she shakes her head.
“Dammit, then it must be at the postal office. I’ve been waiting for days for this letter.” Before he can leave again Janis or Galen keep hold on his arm. Yes, I did not bother to learn their names.
“Wait, what’s wrong with the coffee machine?”
Casually he turns around on his tiptoes. Generally, he passes of as a very laid-off guy.
“Some idiot forgot to get a new pack of coffee after emptying the second to last one again and now we are out of coffee.” He lets him go again.
“Well, if you have no other problems up there.” Galen or… you know the other one. Anyway, he shrugs it off and we go to have a look at the cafeteria, where diligently tasteless convenient food is being prepared. Marcos and me decide that for lunchbreak we will eat out.
Lastly, we go down to the treasure chamber. As soon as the door opens we both initiate a footrace. Both of us want to be the first one to drive the car. With our car key in the outstretched hand we run wildly fidgeting through the underground car park. Finally, the light of a vehicle flash in front of us.
“Shit!”, we come to a stop in front of a black Mercedes W222, S-class. “Which one of us unlocked it?”
Marcos tries to compromise. “You already got the women, so I’ll get the car.” I look at him, to Janis and Galen who are slowly coming closer, to the car and back at him. “Don’t you think it’s a little snotty to put Lucy in the same category as the car, though I really want to drive the Mercedes. Can we trade?” I make an attempt at puppy eyes, because I know Marcos well enough to know, that he will give in.
“I hate you, Toby.” With these words he gives me his car key. Excited like a little kid I get on the driver seat. It was going to be a great Wednesday after all. Before Marcos gets in too he asks out Mentors if it is okay to drive around the block for some time. They nod and make their way up to the cafeteria to spend their break with disgusting food.
After he finally sat down I drive out of the car park onto the street. The car feels good and pleasantly to drive. It’s like hovering of the asphalt.
Meanwhile Marcos investigates the cars features, such as the radiocommunication and especially the Aux-function, with squinty eyes. In the glove compartment he finds the car documents, which where all approved, but missed our signature.
“Prior to driving against somebody’s car I suggest you sign here.”, he reminds me.
“Okay, I’ll do it at the next traffic light.”
In the meantime, he turns on the how I call it “Youth radio channel”, because it plays new music and has shows where they talk about things teenagers like. However, the adult moderators act hip and young by using words like “Booyah” and “that’s so laser”, being completely out of time. Through this behaviour I’m getting the feeling of second-hand embarrassment, but the music is worth it.
Eventually, we reach a red traffic light and I sign the papers. Then I drive in the direction of the city district Zografou, where Marcos lives in a flat-share. Across the street of their flat there is the only good restaurant I know in the nearby area. Whereat nearby area would be an exaggeration. Generally, I’m not familiar with the restaurants in Athens.
After Bruno Mars finished presenting his new single Marcos realizes where we are going. “Oh, are you driving to Apla Spitiko?”
I nod and adjust my glasses.
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