THE GLASS BOX: A GONZO STORY TOLD FOUR TIMES

By Jake Lankford

Based on JEANNE DIELMAN directed by Chantal Ackerman.

PROLOGUE: THE BOOTH.

The Booth, the setting for our story today. The Booth is a small glass-and-metal shack right outside the Carpenter Complex, is where many of the residents find work as an on-campus job. It is a small, cramped space, with only a space heater to keep warm and an air conditioning unit to keep cool, but even that is a finicky device, as it is liable to flip to the heat setting when one least expects it. At either side of the Booth are two gates, an enter and an exit gate, that respond to a parking pass and detecting a car, respectively. There is little privacy to be found here, as there are large, stain-smeared windows on all four sides of the Booth, thus allowing whoever is inside to be viewed from all angles as if they are an art installation or a valuable piece in a museum. What is it like to work here? What does a day look like in the glass box? Who is in charge? Through these four collected vignettes, you shall soon find out.

I: THE MORNING SHIFT, 9:00-12:00

Madelyn Harris begins her shift at 9:00 AM, just when the sun is completing its rise above Memphis. She works the 9:00-12:00 morning shift, when the job is at its most hectic. “There are always so many people trying to get through the gate and they don’t ever read the signs and sometimes they get frustrated with me,” Harris says. Despite the chaotic nature of this shift, Harris finds time to do her homework and relax on her shift. Three hours of near-peace and down time, plus a view of the orange rising sun above the campus. Look up, and you can see the sun rays shine through the glass of the Booth, illuminating the small specks of dust floating in the air, like small photons of light barely visible, or like insects buzzing about aimlessly. The enjoyment of this beauty isn’t long, a blaring car horn rips you right back to reality and you are expected to help. That is the nature of the morning shift, a pendulum that swings between tranquility and disruption, and what Booth attendants like Harris sign up for.

At 12:00, Harris begins the first of two afternoon shifts, and will remain there until 3:00. Also at 12:00, an overcast has rolled in, blotting out the sun for the rest of the day.

END OF SEGMENT ONE.

II: THE BOSS, 12:00-3:00.

Cutting away from the Booth for a brief moment, we turn our attention to the boss, Stephanie Montoya, the Residence Life Coordinator of the Carpenter Complex and the boss of all the desk/Booth attendants who work at Carpenter. Montoya’s office is a colorful and eccentric place, full of drawings, pictures and Harry Potter memorabilia. At her desk are two large computer monitors and a smaller laptop. Finally, the desk itself is large and rich, dark brown wood. Two chairs are situated in front of the desk. Typical set up for the boss’ office, but with Montoya’s own embellishments.

“A typical day in the office is: students usually come in and out and they ask a couple questions, occasionally will do a lockout or so. My job is mainly to maintain the on-flow of the Carpenter Complex, so I’m just here helping everybody out while I can until the RA’s come on duty,” Montoya describes her job as such.

Montoya will leave for lunch at 12:00 and usually returns at 2:00 until when the office closes at 4:30. But we’re not going until 4:30, at 3:00, we cut back to the booth. Harris has clocked out and a new attendant has taken her place.

END OF SEGMENT TWO.

III: AFTERNOON SHIFT, 3:00-6:00.

The overcast-filled sky hangs high above the Booth as Lauren Johnson clocks in for her shift. Unlike the chaotic morning shifts, the afternoon shifts are much calmer and less hectic, on account of a lot of students being in class in the afternoon.

“My three hour shift is fairly easy and it is a quiet place for you to do homework and there’s nothing, there’s not a lot going on, basically,” Johnson says. Compared to Harris’ shifts, Johnson’s shift is extremely quiet by comparison. There isn’t a lot going on, just the occasional car that comes through and that is about it. Once the office closes at 4:30, the shift does pick up a little with the occasional lockout who comes to the booth looking for assistance, but other than that, it is a lonely, uneasy silence that fills the air. The only sounds that punctuate the air are the hum of the old air conditioner that hangs on the wall, the cars that whizz by on Central Ave and the hum of the exit and enter gates.

A silence that becomes more pronounced once the last student-led shift begins, the 6:00-10:00 shift, and when Johnson clocks out at 6:00.

END OF SEGMENT THREE.

IV: THE NIGHT SHIFT, 6:00-10:00.

I close and lock the booth door, sit down and clock in for my four hours at work. I have a head full of coffee, a copy of Vladimir Nabokov’s Laughter in the Dark and my sticker-laden laptop. Time flies by at the start of the shift, but near the end, I feel the minutes ticking away into hours. Starts fast, then slows to an absolute crawl.

I boot up YouTube and begin watching some video essays, those help to take big chunks out of the clock at the beginning of my shift. Suddenly, as if it were an alarm clock, my concentration is ripped to a blaring car horn outside the enter gate. A food delivery driver, typical for this time at night. I remind them that I don’t control the gate and that they have to press the call button for parking services to lift the gate.

Beep! And the canned version of the fight song plays while the driver waits for parking services to answer. It’s a 50/50 chance whether the driver will be let through, on this night, the gate is lifted up and the driver goes through.

Other than that, silence. Not even the sound of cars on Central keeps me company, this time, I only have the hum of the air conditioner, like an old refrigerator, and the hum of the gates as my white noise. I’ve grown bored of video essays and turn to my book for entertainment. It’s a funny, cynical novel, typical early Nabokov, and I knock out a fairly large chunk of it before my shift ends.

A *tap tap tap* on the window pulls me from my book, a security guard is outside. She will take over from 10:00 PM to 6:00 AM the next day, when the first morning shift begins. I clock out and make the short walk back to my townhouse, where I go to bed, look at my phone for a bit, and force myself to sleep through both the caffeine and my insomnia.

END OF SEGMENT FOUR.

DEDICATED TO CHANTAL ACKERMAN.