The Empty Desk

A cubicle by a window is a prime spot.

When it comes to prime office space, nothing is sacred. When the announcement was made that the guy in the cubicle next to me was no longer going to work in this office, the “drive-bys” began. People at first just walked by his spot to see if it was any good. By a window; check. Quiet part of the office; check. Relatively private; check. People asked me questions about the temperature near the window: Does it get too hot with the sun coming in? And about the glare: Do the shades work to block the glare? And the foot traffic: Do a lot of people walk by here? I was amazed by the number of inquiries.

Then the pilfering started. First it was one or two guys who have cubicles near us who needed a stapler or some pens. Next people started taking bigger stuff like books, magazine racks, and the mouse pad. Finally, when most of the good stuff was gone, people settled for what was left, like push-pins and a note pad. The funny thing is, we can get any of this stuff in the supply room. I’m not sure what the appeal was of taking his things. The thrill of being caught? The feeling that the grass is always greener? Maybe just an excuse to check out the space? Whatever the reason, his cubicle is now almost completely bare.

I am no innocent bystander in all of this. After all, whoever takes his spot will be sitting next to me. I will be able to hear all of his/her phone conversations and casual office discussions. I will find out things about his/her personal life, and even (as with the previous guy), bank account numbers and schedules for doctor’s appointments. My stake is so high, in fact, that I talked to the HR person and put in a personal request for “someone who is quiet and doesn’t talk on the phone a lot.” I even discouraged a couple potential tenants by telling them that the glare is really bad and the view isn’t that great anyway. The good news for me is that there is some remodeling going on, and many people will be moved around. Until they decide who goes where, the spot next to me will remain unoccupied—and quiet.

It's a Small World

Current coworkers, former neighbors.

One of the best things about working in an office is getting to know new people. And an even better thing is forming friendships out of these new acquaintances. One of my co-workers has become a particularly good friend, and we have socialized outside of the office on a few occasions. So it came as a surprise to both of us when we found out a pretty amazing fact about the other—we grew up on the same street!

The conversation in the lunchroom one afternoon went like this:

SHANNON: What did you do this weekend?

ME: I saw a play at Moonlight Amphitheatre.

SHANNON: I’ve been to Moonlight before, when I was a kid.

ME: Really? That’s pretty far from where you grew up.

SHANNON: I used to live in Vista.

ME: Really? Where? I grew up in Vista.

SHANNON: Behind the high school.

ME: Off of Goodwin?

SHANNON: Yes, on Gail.

At this point, I seriously almost dropped my lunch as I was taking it out of the microwave.

ME: SERIOUSLY?! I grew up on Gail. What number?

SHANNON: 4XX.

ME: I used to live at 3XX.

Turns out, we grew up across the street from each other, just a few houses apart. We don't remember each other because I moved away when I was 9, and she was pretty young then. She then moved away, too, which is why I thought she had grown up in another city. We have since had many conversations about who we used to play with and how we used to sneak into the high school through the fence of one of our neighbors.

What are the odds? Out of all of the offices downtown, and all of the people in my office, I became friends with a woman who grew up only a few houses from me. So amazing!