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.

Usuals Not Always Usual

The usual commuters on the Coaster are just that, usual. Typical business people who work at UCSD, Qualcomm, or other large employer in the Sorrento Valley area, or who work in downtown San Diego, often for the County of San Diego or a law firm. These people are generally quiet and often read a book or newspaper in the morning or carry on conversations with their commuter friends.

Then there are the not-so-usual usuals. My favorite is the eyeliner/hair woman. I wish I had a picture of her, but I can’t figure out how to take one without being obvious. Her look never waivers; even her clothes are the same, with little variation. She has long, bleach-blond straight hair that is beyond damaged. It is usually back in a low ponytail with a beehive-type thing at the top. She pushes up her hair from the back with a large barrette so she has these high sort-of bangs. She always wears dark eyeliner all around her eyes, giving her a strange 60s/punk look. She wears dark tights (black, brown, or dark green), short flair skirts, and big belts around her waist. Her shirt and skirt are always in the same color family of mustard, dark green, or brown. I can’t figure out what kind of job she has that she would wear such an outfit every day. Hostess? Tour guide? I want to follow her one day and get the scoop.

Another unusual usual looks like a regular guy, but decidedly isn’t. He is a hummer—a pretty loud one. And, he isn’t even wearing headphones; he just hums to himself whatever random tune is in his head. He also clears his throat in a way that sounds like a horse—seriously. He is quite odd, and doesn’t seem to realize that other people exist. He sometimes stands in the aisle while other people are leaving, waiting to take their spot, but totally in their way.

The towel guy is quiet and quite normal, except that he always puts down a salmon-colored towel before sitting down. He carries it in a tote that he has with him. I hope he puts the same side down every time, otherwise, using the towel is kind of pointless.

Look Both Ways

Don't step in front of the train, even if you're in a hurry!

About 5 minutes into my train ride home the other day, the train made an unscheduled stop in the middle of an intersection. And then we waited. And waited. After about 15 minutes, the conductor made an announcement that seemed ominous. In a voice that was obviously upset, he said, slowly, “We will be here … for a while.” Ugg. What does that mean? This doesn’t sound good.

A little while later, the conductor made another announcement, saying we’d be there for at least another 45 minutes. Seriously?! I knew I should have taken the earlier train! He never told us why we were stopped, but it soon became obvious. There were police, ambulance, and firefighter vehicles and personnel all around the train. I could only see a small section of street from my window, but police began arriving to direct cars around the train (which, as I’ve said, was right in the middle of an intersection). It seemed that most of the action was behind me, where the train came from.

I tried to read the paper to help pass the time, but watching the cars and police outside the window was more interesting. After about 45 minutes, there was another announcement. We were going to switch to another train, and so could we all slowly make our way to the front car. Since I was already in the front car, I just made my way downstairs. In about another 5 minutes, a different Coaster train pulled up. We slowly piled out of one car (a BIG step down) and up onto the next train. I went right upstairs and had a good view of the rest of the passengers crossing the tracks to get onto the new train. In about another 10 minutes, we were on our way. Still with no explanation about the delay.

The news the next day revealed that a woman had been hit by the train, and had survived! She was with her brother and they waited for the Trolley to pass, but didn’t notice the Coaster coming on the next set of tracks. It hit her at the legs. On the Coaster a few days later, I overhead one of the engineers say that the woman told him they took a short-cut because they were trying to get home early. So much for that! He also said that this was the first time he’s been on a train that hit someone and the person survived. Two crazy things about that comment: he’s been on a train that hit someone before, and that the rest of the people who were hit had died.

So my typical long day was even longer, but at least I made it home safely!

You Know It's Going to Rain When...

The parking garage at the Oceanside Station.

I can tell it is going to rain when there are less parking spaces available in the parking garage at the train station. The station has both a regular parking lot and a covered garage. The garage is a little farther from the station than the lot, and so is never full when I arrive in the morning. However, when it is raining, or predicted to rain, there are definitely more cars.

When I arrived to the station this morning, there was only one spot left in the section where I usually park, when there are typically at least 10 left. I thought, “What is the deal? Why are there so many cars this morning? Am I late?” After checking the time and realizing that I was right on time, another thought occurred to me, “Maybe it’s supposed to rain.” While on the train, I overheard that it was, indeed, expected to rain that day.

In a previous blog post, I wrote about how we train riders are creatures of habit. We usually ride in the same car, and often in the exact same seat. Parking is no different. Train riders park their cars in the same general area, and in the same spot if they can. I park on the first floor of the garage, next to a barricade (if I can), facing out. I often park next to the same silver BMW. So of course I noticed when there were more cars in the garage than usual, and it totally threw me off my game. Now I had to think, “Where will I park? If I park here, can I get out as quickly? If I park there, will dust from the train get kicked up onto my car?” A lot to consider this early in the morning. But at least I knew one thing for certain: It was going to rain.

What's in a Building?

Side of my building with a Wyland mural.

People who work in “famous” buildings (the Sears Tower, Empire State Building) have some bragging rights, or at least a good conversation starter. I happen to fall into that category, if you consider “Wyland” buildings famous. The office where I work has a huge mural of whales painted on it that covers an entire side of the building. It is one of maybe 100 buildings around the world that feature a Wyland mural.

There are plenty of tall buildings downtown, and my building is small by comparison (seven stories), but it is known none-the-less. Other people will tell you they work in the Wells Fargo building or the Sempra building, but when I say, “the building with the whales on it,” most people know what I’m talking about.

I realized just how “cool” this was when I was on vacation this summer. I was wandering through a Wyland gallery at a popular tourist spot when I stopped in front of a large poster that had small images of all of Wyland’s building murals. The gallery worker sauntered over and explained to me about the buildings. I told him that I knew all about them, since I worked in one of them. He couldn’t believe it. I was so lucky! He helped me locate my building on the poster. “Wow,” he said. “That’s so cool.” “Really?” I thought. I had no idea. It’s kind of like having a hip teenager come up to you and tell you she likes your outfit.

While I rarely think about the whales swimming on the side of my office building, when I do see them (from the train or when I go for a walk to escape my life in a cubicle), I appreciate Wyland’s talent and his commitment to the protection of ocean life. And I think to myself, “Yeah, I guess it’s pretty cool that I work in this building.”

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!

When Is Friendly A Little Creepy?

An empty car. Riders usually sit in the same car and same general area.

People are creatures of habit. On the train, people not only sit in the same car each morning and evening, but many often sit in the same seat, or at least in the same general area. Because of this, you get to know people who ride in your car. Among friends and acquaintances, it isn't uncommon to hear, "You weren't here yesterday, did you drive?" or "Did you take the later/earlier train?" Among strangers, it can be unnerving. You generally notice who is on the train and who isn't, but you don't usually point it out to a stranger. I once overheard a woman say to her friend, "We can sit next to him because he gets off in Solana Beach. Right?" She asked him. Then, "You think I don't notice."

Another time a man made a comment to a young student-looking guy who was eating a big sandwich on the train ride home. The man said something like, "That sandwich looks good" (which is a normal thing to say). But then a woman he was with said, "He has a good dinner every day on the train home." The young man just made some comment about how he saves his lunch for later, but seemed a bit weirded out. I would be, too, if I knew that somebody noticed what I was eating every day.

So I guess the moral here is to realize that you will get noticed in this micro-commuting world, but that there is a fine line between being friendly and creeping someone out.