Guilt No More
When I moved to my new cube, back around Thanksgiving, I displaced the previous occupant, Steve H***. It's a window cube, and thus in what amounts to the high-rent district. Steve had to move out to make room for me because of office politics (the short, not necessarily true version is that I outranked him; the more complex answer has to do with the fact that we're under different managers, who engaged in various cube-swapping activities in order to ensure that nobody was happier than anybody else).Steve H*** moved to a non-window cube catty-corner to mine, which means that I have to see him every day. And I'm sure he occasionally looks over here and thinks, "That ass bumped me out of my primo cube, and now he's sitting there browsing the Worth1000 forums." So of course I feel guilty about him having to move, even though I didn't arrange it personally.
This afternoon, Val Anderson popped by my cube to pick up her CDFFL winnings. (I've always liked Val; she's cute, warm, honest, and occasionally funny. And now I love Val, because she gave me a Caribou Coffee gift card when she picked up her money. Yes, my affections are for sale; please enquire at Customer Service.) As I looked around for my stats sheet to figure out how much I owed her, she leaned in, pointed back at Steve H***'s cube, and whispered, "Do you know him?" I thought, "Duh -- I can see his name plaque from right here." Then she whispered, "He's asleep!"
Sure enough, Steve H*** was sitting in his ergonomic chair, eyes closed, chin on chest, snoring lightly.
I like my cube better without guilt. It even feels a little roomier.
posted by MeanMrMustard @ 1:46 PM
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