clarion call. at work there are certain areas that you can go and certain areas that you can not go. this involves no doors or passes of any kind. you just know. you start to learn. do not park here. do not eat lunch here. do not take your cigarette breaks along this route. do not go into the lab and expect to be welcomed. it's just a thing. it's similar to grade school when you didn't have assigned seats but after a month or so, everybody sat in the same place. then one day, a brave soul would try to switch their seat and the previous owner would get all huffy. "hey, you're in my seat." "i don't see your name here." "i always sit in that seat, right next to dre and nelson. c'mon, get out." "we don't have assigned seats, you go sit over there." "i'm warning you, get out now." no movement. so the booted person is forced to take another seat -- due to the teacher coming in -- and so begin the glares and spit ball wars. spit balls are numero uno disgusting by the way. whoever invented such things should get their tongues cut out. an eye for an eye the good book said.



if at work, i tried to move my car into a spot that i don't normally park in, i imagine that something like a spit ball war would ensue. right now i park at the farthest end of the lot. partly because i'm always late, partly because i nap at lunch and don't want co-workers to see me. funny story. i used to drive my car around the block to sleep. i thought, in my normal outwit myself manner, that this would prevent co-workers from knowing where i went during lunch. one day i'm lying there, ac blasting, radio on, windows rolled down, i happen to sit up. hi maintenance guys walking by my window. i'm just sleeping here, twenty yards away from the office, you know, just because. i gave a small wave and tried to maintain my cool. i felt very sheepish inside. even as i projected my exterior lion. they waved back and walked on by. after that unfortunate encounter, i never tried to hide my car or my napping again. i felt so stupid and wrong. however, i did find out that the maintenance men nap in the wherehouse on occassion, and that they maybe conduct secret rendezvous-es with lovers. so really, my transgressions are oh so slight.



but the point is that people in the office have certain places that they park, certain places they eat, certain routes they go on for walks. take off too early during a break, walk too slowly, you might be in no man's land -- faced with the backsides of the quality assurance girls and the approaching danger that is the computer guy. what is an administrative assistant to do? sometimes i get surprised by co-workers coming around the bush and i'm forced to do the slight smile, head nod, walk on by move. i hate that move.



i can always tell when my boss' are in or not. they park in the same spots, all the time. right in front of the building. nobody parks in their spots even though they are usually the last ones to arrive. one of these days, in a final act of insubordination, i'll park in one of their spots and see what happens. and then i'll jam the copier with one gazillion pieces of loose leaf paper. and then i'll send long distance faxes to outer space, in an effort to contact my people. i'm not bitter. i didn't even touch her.



this is what they mean by "the culture of the office". know where you step boy, know where you step.