Eddie Chaz in his usual indifference to everything around him disregarded the wet floor sign and the fact that Fred from Maintenance was polishing the floors. Eddie slipped and fell. The List flew from his hand. As I ducked around the corner, I saw it slide like a hockey puck across the freshly polished floor and under the rumbling grind of the floor polishing machine. Before Fred had a chance to turn it off, the List spun around three times under the circular polisher and shot out like a ninja throwing star, striking Eddie just above the bridge of his nose as he lay sprawling by copy machine. I tiptoed across the shiny floor and picked up the laminated List while Eddie wept over what he decided was a permanent disfigurement, when it was really just a red mark between the eyes.
The List was unscathed, In fact, it was much shiner. Thanks to the Fellowes Saturn 95, the List had endured yet another trial. I tiptoed back across the floor whispering to myself like a mantra: “a laminated document is a safe document.”
The break room was in sight. I looked left and right for more hazards. But the coast was clear. The break room was empty, so with a sigh of relief I set down the List on the break room table and began unlocking the display case.
That’s when I heard a noise behind me similar to the sound of a handful of mud being thrown at the wall. I turned to see Gus from Finance slopping down his greasy, dripping triple bacon avocado ranch Godzilla burger with extra salsa and barbecue-- right on the List.
But I breathed easy. I was confident now that not even the greasy drippings of a Godzilla burger could defeat the laminating power of the Saturn 95.
“Gus,” I said, “watch where you put your lunch.”
“Oh sorry.” He had to scoop the dripping mess up with both hands.
“It’s okay,” I said and easily wiped the List clean with a napkin. “You see” I held it up proudly.
Gus stood there with his Godzilla burger dripping grease on the floor between his fingers. “Well of course,” he shrugged. “A laminated document is a safe document.”
After I had locked the List safely away in the display case, I returned to my cubicle, now a haven of rest, a sanctuary from my long journey. The phone rang. I answered. It was Jo-Beth. She said: “say, could you stop back by my office. I gave you the wrong document. That was our office supply inventory that I gave you. I still have the List right here on my desk….”
“But, but, it’s safe now…a laminated document is a safe--.”
“Oh that reminds me, when you bring back that inventory sheet I have to add laminating pouches to it—we’re all out. But that’s okay, you can take the List back without it, no problem right?”
Follow Cube Confessions for a completely new office adventure next month.
I am a voice from the cube jungle, I might be in the cube next to you or in a different department, but I’m somewhere in this gray walled maze. I write to you from my cube. These are my confessions....
Monday, July 11, 2011
Friday, July 8, 2011
Trials of the Laminated List Part II
The Trials of the Laminated List Part II
When he came at me, Joe “The Spill” Wilson was empty-handed, which was a good thing. He was notorious for drenching everything including himself in his long-armed radius with coffee, soft drinks and once even a strawberry milkshake. All documents unfortunate enough to pass across his desk were doomed.
“Hey, is that the List, let me see it. I want to check my calendar, see what day I gotta clean up.” I handed him the List with a sigh of relief, as he was clearly beverage free.
“My calendar is in my office, it’ll just take a sec.” He stepped into his cubicle and set the List down next to a steaming Grande Mocha from Jumbo Java and simultaneously reached over the coffee to peer at his calendar pinned to the cubicle wall.
Before I could scream out loud, I saw it in slow-motion, like a dream, the way you see tragic accidents happening before your eyes. He bumped the coffee and the List and everything else on his desk was soaked in an engulfing ebony flood that waterfalled in a cascade of decaf droplets tapping onto the plastic desk chair mat.
“Oh man! Joe said. He grabbed a roll of paper towels, which he kept in ample supply due to his chronic clumsiness and began wiping up his mess, turning the unprotected papers on his desk—the project reports and sales projection estimates--into a mushy pulp.
But miraculously, the List with one swipe of the paper towel was wiped clean. I picked it up quickly before anything more could happen and remembered Jo-Beth’s words, as she patted the Fellowes Saturn 95: “a laminated document is a safe document.”
At that precise moment, I felt the List plucked from my hand over my shoulder. “Oh you got the List, exactly what I was looking for.” Eddie Chaz from PR started walking quickly away from me carelessly fanning himself with the List.
“Hey,” I ran after,” I’m supposed to post that in the break room.”
“Don’t sweat it,” he said over his shoulder, “I just want to make a copy for myself, no biggie.” He dragged the List playfully along the wall whistling as he took a sharp right into the copy room—where we also kept the shredders!
Laminated or not, the List could not possibly survive a shredding. As he disappeared out of sight, I turned the corner after him, hearing a loud grinding noise.
Suddenly Eddie cried out, “Oh No!”
See what happens in the next installment of Cube Confessions.
When he came at me, Joe “The Spill” Wilson was empty-handed, which was a good thing. He was notorious for drenching everything including himself in his long-armed radius with coffee, soft drinks and once even a strawberry milkshake. All documents unfortunate enough to pass across his desk were doomed.
“Hey, is that the List, let me see it. I want to check my calendar, see what day I gotta clean up.” I handed him the List with a sigh of relief, as he was clearly beverage free.
“My calendar is in my office, it’ll just take a sec.” He stepped into his cubicle and set the List down next to a steaming Grande Mocha from Jumbo Java and simultaneously reached over the coffee to peer at his calendar pinned to the cubicle wall.
Before I could scream out loud, I saw it in slow-motion, like a dream, the way you see tragic accidents happening before your eyes. He bumped the coffee and the List and everything else on his desk was soaked in an engulfing ebony flood that waterfalled in a cascade of decaf droplets tapping onto the plastic desk chair mat.
“Oh man! Joe said. He grabbed a roll of paper towels, which he kept in ample supply due to his chronic clumsiness and began wiping up his mess, turning the unprotected papers on his desk—the project reports and sales projection estimates--into a mushy pulp.
But miraculously, the List with one swipe of the paper towel was wiped clean. I picked it up quickly before anything more could happen and remembered Jo-Beth’s words, as she patted the Fellowes Saturn 95: “a laminated document is a safe document.”
At that precise moment, I felt the List plucked from my hand over my shoulder. “Oh you got the List, exactly what I was looking for.” Eddie Chaz from PR started walking quickly away from me carelessly fanning himself with the List.
“Hey,” I ran after,” I’m supposed to post that in the break room.”
“Don’t sweat it,” he said over his shoulder, “I just want to make a copy for myself, no biggie.” He dragged the List playfully along the wall whistling as he took a sharp right into the copy room—where we also kept the shredders!
Laminated or not, the List could not possibly survive a shredding. As he disappeared out of sight, I turned the corner after him, hearing a loud grinding noise.
Suddenly Eddie cried out, “Oh No!”
See what happens in the next installment of Cube Confessions.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
The Trials of the Laminated List Part 1
It started with weekly sales meetings that left the conference room a mess. Admin Jo-Beth gave out weekly cleaning detail to the whole office, each one of us would get stuck with the job. She posted the List in the break room. Who would clean the conference room on this week of the month…
Strangely, the list kept disappearing. “I didn’t know it was my turn.” The shrugging would pass around the office. “The list is gone, I didn’t know….” Every time the list would go missing and the conference room remained a mess.
Jo-Beth clamped down. She had maintenance install a locking glass display case in the break room. Here the List would be safely displayed protected, proclaiming the duties without dispute.
There was one problem. I was given the responsibility of transporting the List from Jo-Beth’s office all the way on the east side of the building to the west side of the building. In between was a journey fraught with terrors, office workers and cube dwellers, every department from accounting to acquisitions, to human resources all knowing full well I possessed the List that would leave them cleaning up bagel crumbs and swizzle sticks. They would do everything in their power to stop me.
Jo-Beth had an idea. She brought out the Fellowes Saturn 95 Laminator with its easy carrying handle and stand-up feet. She took out the laminating starter kit that was included and powered up the Saturn 95. It warmed up in no time. The HeatGuard Technology kept the Saturn cool to the touch as we passed the list through. In a matter of minutes the List was safely sealed in a secure plastic pouch, complete document protection in five minutes.
She handed me the laminated list and the key to the display case. “Remember,” she said, “a laminated document is a safe document. I hope you well on your journey.”
Leaving her office, the door closing behind me, I could see ahead the vast maze of all the departments. Heads prairie-dogging over the tops of cubicles, eyeing me, eyeing the laminated List that I clutched close to my chest, stroking their chins, scheming as I proceeded trembling into the cube jungle….
See what happens in the next episode of “The List” in Cube Confessions.
Strangely, the list kept disappearing. “I didn’t know it was my turn.” The shrugging would pass around the office. “The list is gone, I didn’t know….” Every time the list would go missing and the conference room remained a mess.
Jo-Beth clamped down. She had maintenance install a locking glass display case in the break room. Here the List would be safely displayed protected, proclaiming the duties without dispute.
There was one problem. I was given the responsibility of transporting the List from Jo-Beth’s office all the way on the east side of the building to the west side of the building. In between was a journey fraught with terrors, office workers and cube dwellers, every department from accounting to acquisitions, to human resources all knowing full well I possessed the List that would leave them cleaning up bagel crumbs and swizzle sticks. They would do everything in their power to stop me.
Jo-Beth had an idea. She brought out the Fellowes Saturn 95 Laminator with its easy carrying handle and stand-up feet. She took out the laminating starter kit that was included and powered up the Saturn 95. It warmed up in no time. The HeatGuard Technology kept the Saturn cool to the touch as we passed the list through. In a matter of minutes the List was safely sealed in a secure plastic pouch, complete document protection in five minutes.
She handed me the laminated list and the key to the display case. “Remember,” she said, “a laminated document is a safe document. I hope you well on your journey.”
Leaving her office, the door closing behind me, I could see ahead the vast maze of all the departments. Heads prairie-dogging over the tops of cubicles, eyeing me, eyeing the laminated List that I clutched close to my chest, stroking their chins, scheming as I proceeded trembling into the cube jungle….
See what happens in the next episode of “The List” in Cube Confessions.
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