May 8, 2006
Klingon?
Today was the first day at the office for a new person I hired.
That’s generally an unremarkable thing other than the excitement of a new employee. As I left the office at about 6:15 pm on Friday, however I checked to make sure her office was empty, since I would be away during her first week.
The previous occupant works in another group and was moving to a different floor.
The occupant had moved out.
But, son of a morlock! (look up the Time Machine by Jules Verne to clarify this reference if it’s unclear). How was it possible that one person could leave such an unbelievable mess?
In my head, I saw a cleaning crew person telling the boss “No way. I’m not paid enough for this,” then placing secret janitorial danger tape over the door and moving on to the next office.
This floor of this well-known New York skyscraper was remodeled recently – so the person could not have been in the office for more than six months … but … The desk was covered with layers and layers of crumbs. What kind of crumbs? I have no idea. It was as if someone had eaten a flaky croissant per day every day for a year. The carpet? Also covered with crumbs, scraps of paper, and a giant roach. I’ve never even seen a roach in our building. Was that an uneaten entree? Or maybe one of the occupant’s relatives?
There’s a fabric-covered cork board on the wall. It runs the length of the desk area. In it were 63 (yes, I counted) thumbtacks and a nail. The phone (less than 3 months old — that’s when we got brand-new Avaya internet phones) was STICKY. With what? WHO CARES!! — IT WAS STICKY! Like when Spock, Kirk and some of their crew were attacked by giant fried eggs in the original Star Trek series.
I opened a desk drawer — piles of plastic silverware, some of it used and placed back in the drawer. Condiment packages, some sealed, some opened a little bit, with the contents stuck to the drawer bottom. GROSS.
The chair — a very nice Herman Miller Aeron chair — was covered with crumbs.
Anyway, you get the point — it looked like there had been a murder, a protest, a cookout and a thumb-tack attack all at once in this office … and all performed by a band of angry Huts. (see any of the original Star Wars movies if that reference confuses you).
Clearly, this was such a disaster that only a combination of old-timey, 60’s era and 1970-84-era science fiction could explain what I saw. Everyone was long gone, so there wasn’t really much to do other than set to
work.
I found cleaning products in the bathroom, mailroom and in a neighboring office. I scrubbed the desk, picked up as many paper scraps as possible, used Dow bathroom cleanser on every surface (why? who knows, it was the only thing available that seemed strong enough to kill whatever was living all over the place). Thirty minutes later, the office was, I suppose, presentable enough for my new employee.
Now it was 7:00 pm on Friday and on my way home, I thought about whomever occupied that office. First of all, anyone in my company who has an office is a well-compensated white-collar professional.
Second of all, she sat near six other people, one of whom was her manager. That’s pretty much all I knew about her, other than the fact that she had moved and left a culinary Nagasaki behind.
I assume she’s actually employed by the company and not a homeless person who wandered in and exercised squatter’s rights. She had occupied that office, eight doors down from me and I had no idea who she was, what she did or that she was, apparently down there committing bloody murder on bakery products and condiment packages for MONTHS.
By Grapthar’s Hammar! (Galaxy Quest — not sure it counts as science fiction — but sure is funny). I hope I never run into her or have to go to her new office for a meeting. I’ll need one of those bright orange contamination suits in order to survive.
Anyway. Sunday I went to the office to pick up my passport and poked my head into my new employee’s office. She had come in on Saturday and settled in.
Great artwork, nice family photos, neurotic neatness and very good taste.
Whew.
That poor office deserves her after what it’s been through.
Nanu, Nanu, new person. Live long and prosper.