You’ll never guess who just moved into the vacant cubicle down the hall from me. Our Director.
Apparently not content with his sprawling office suite on our building’s top floor, with its own bathroom and private elevator, the boss has opted instead for our first-floor bullpen, a half-walled workspace and—someone should warn him—the frequent smell of stale corned beef.
What I can’t figure out at this point is what he plans to do with Sharon, his executive assistant, whom I assume he’s bringing to work alongside him down here. If he’s hoping to maintain the same square-footage ratio from his office space to hers that they had upstairs, then lucky Sharon will be setting up shop in a pencil cup.
Why would he do it? Why would anyone give up an office like that? Maybe he’s agoraphobic? Afraid of heights? Or maybe our Director has simply lost his mind.
No, of course it’s much simpler than all that. He’s making a statement. Our Director wants the whole agency to know that he’s one of us.
Okay, Mr. Director, we get it. You’re just another ABC Agency employee. You’re just like me.
Yes, like you, I’ll leave here tonight, hop in my new Porsche and take that beautiful mountain-highway drive home to my hilltop estate, where my personal chef will have prepared my favorite meal. Then I’ll have an hour or so to work out with my in-home personal trainer before my guests start arriving for “movie night” in my basement theater room.
Oh, that’s right. You’re not just like me.
But if you insist on seeing this public statement of yours through and actually moving into this cubicle on our floor, then we should get a few things clear. Don’t say we didn’t warn you.
- Jerry Gabler in the corner cube does a wicked impersonation of you. It’s the highlight of his day, really the only way he gets attention. So even with you here, I doubt we can stop him.
- We tend to haze the new guys a little by throwing wadded-up paper into their cubes while they’re working and making lots of noise when they’re on the phone. It won’t last long.
- Oh, and thanks to a new agency policy—instituted by you, I believe—you won’t be able to get to your car from that side exit door just opposite your new cubicle, which leads directly to the employee parking lot. Nope, you’ll have to walk around the building and leave through the front doors. The agency is “worried about theft,” I’m told.
If you can handle all that, we’ll gladly embrace you as our new ABC Agency worker-bee brother. The pressure down here is palpable and the stress level often makes people pretty unhappy. But it’s not all bad. We have plenty of laughs making fun of management.
Welcome to the cubicle farm, boss!