I get to work around 8am most mornings, it's quiet then and I can get things organized so I'm ready for the busy day ahead.

A few weeks ago I arrived at work around 7:45am. As I was turning on my computer and making the first pot of coffee, the construction workers began to stream in to start the remodeling on our office.

I sat down at my desk and was opening an e-mail when I heard someone coming down the stairs from our upstairs branch. I looked up.

The man had long, dirty hair and wild eyes. He was swerving, winding from left to right- wall to wall. I watched him approach me and the workers came to a halt. You could have heard a pin drop.

The man came right up to my desk, never making eye contact and asked me where one of my co-workers was.

"Where's -------?"

"He's not in yet. We don't open until 9. Can I help you with something?"

"I need to trade in my Lincoln and buy a new car." (he said, dipping slightly to the right, now looking at the far wall and muttering to himself)

"Well, if you come back at 9am ------- will be here and he can help you with that."

"So you're kicking me out now? I guess you a racist. I just need a car and ------- said he would get me one. I'm just going to sit here and wait. It's a free country."

He sits down at the desk next to mine and fixes his eyes on me for the first time. I see the largest of the construction workers start towards him. The drug man tilts his head and says

"You know, I think you'd look better with more makeup on."

I stare dumbly at him as he bats imaginary bugs in the air. He continues to ramble on, making no sense most of the time but occasionally putting words together, such as:

"It's funny how glass is shiny but you can still see yourself in it"

and

"They told me not to do that"

and finally

"Do you want me to put on some Marvin Gaye or maybe a white girl don't know nothin' about that!?"

At this point he stands up and comes toward me quickly. The large (handsome) construction worker intercedes and I tell the drug man he has to leave. He curses at me calling me something along the lines of a Fu**ing B***h S**t A**.

The construction workers remove him from the building and lock the door behind him. He stands outside the window by my desk and screams obsecenities at me until they go out and tell him in no uncertain terms that he must leave the premises.

A few days later I was getting ready for work and found myself really staring at myself in the mirror. I applied extra eye liner, mascara and then stopped...

Was I actually taking makeup advice from a crack head????