I amble into the office – the last one to arrive, yawning profusely - and they are all there, gazing intently into their computer screens, not-talking, just staring and typing stuff that makes sense to only them.
I saunter out of the office – the first one to leave, yawning and stretching – and they’re still there, the whole lot of them … staring and typing away at their computers.
SALSA POLICE. That seems to be the ONLY thing these guys are capable of talking about around here. Like a mantra. SALSA POLICE. SALSA POLICE. SALSA POLICE.
I just can’t figure this out.
Do they love their work so much or do they hate going home?
Or maybe they keep making mistakes and have to keep re-doing everything all over again – every day?
Which automatically means, I’m so brilliant, I do my work right the first attempt and therefore have plenty of free time on hand? …….. Nah. Even I know that’s not true.
Because I’ve been banished to the far end of the office (I have dubbed this place ‘the Reject’s Corner’ hoping to inspire some remorse in someone – anyone - but no one seems to care. Possibly because no one’s Catholic in this office now), I get to pass their stations a few hundred times a day on my way to the loo and back (what?) … and what I see, chills the blood in my veins (actually it doesn’t but I like exaggeration like this)
Not one person’s staring at a youtube video or is logged on to facebook or is on gtalk!
Either the Matrix has completely gotten to them or they have better peripheral vision and enviable reflexes.
Another weird thing I’ve noticed.
There’s tons of stuff on my table. Not good stuff like my stuff toys and CDs. I mean bad stuff like dust-bunnies and receipts, dust bunnies and news-paper pieces, dust bunnies and chocolate wrappers, dust bunnies and old cotton swabs stained with nail-polish and dust bunnies and tissue paper with lip-stick smears all over.
I promise you I am not responsible for the dust bunnies. My coffee cup looks like a science experiment came in and died there. Doesn’t smell anymore though – which is such a relief.
And the rest of the people’s tables and the area around them is free of anything that requires an inspection from the sanitation office. How is this possible?
It’s like I’m being singled out by the universe to get bunnied on. Is it my fault that I happen to be blessed enough to land the fluffiest job in the office – possibly the world?
Oh.
Fluff.
Wow … that explains the dust bunnies.
Don’t get me wrong. They do show signs of life occasionally. Vijay pops by to make fun of me. CS – to pull my leg with a straight face. Sriram Gopal to check see if I’m on facebook, which I invariably am …. Yes. I suffer terrific discrimination in this office. But then, after the harassment, they once again slip into zombie mode and start typing computer-speak furiously into their ‘puters.
I’m beginning to think that ‘Puter Geek is their real identity and Regular-Human is their occasional alter ego.
“Wow Edel, you’ve learned so much from your one year in SYNAMEN” Sriram said yesterday.
“Eh?” I looked at him suspiciously. Why was he ‘praising’ me?
“You know how to do research and enter data into Excel Files.”
“Hm” I was busy searching for the sarcasm and decided I couldn’t find it. Mentally I unfurled my pea-cock feathers and strutted about. “That’s because I’m a genius Sriram” I replied humbly.
Jothi popped-up over my station and said, “Edel, you’ve forgotten to attach the document to the e-mail you sent me …”
“… As usual”, some smart Alec quipped from the background, as my mental pea-cock feathers deflated.
Oh.
Feathers.
Fluff.
Dust bunnies.
Figures L
