Ostrich Pillows! They want people to nap in public. This is a travesty. Wake up America!
Ryan and I talk about Basketball, and being sore.
Ryan and I discuss the combine, and all it’s glory. Get it here or on Itunes! Ridin The Pine!
With spring training starting me and Ryan have a heated discussion about the sad state of baseball. Listen here or for free on ITUNES!
“Hey Scott.” Someone barely musters out from behind their desk. They are seated low to the ground, surrounded by 1 full wall to their right, and two half walls directly in front of them and to their left. Scott looks down and takes note of who greeted him. It was Mark. Mark was in his early forties, but had the face of someone who had seen an entire life pass him by. Mark never took his eyes off of his computer screen. It was like he had an extra sense and power that he knew who was walking by at all times. He could have always traded this life in for one of a security guard who could sit for hours reading the paper and knew the names of everyone walking by without breaking from the page. “Hey!” Scott responded as he walked by Mark’s desk.
The beauty of Mark’s desk was that he was so close to the break room. It must have killed Mark to be in the place where he could always smell the food that everyone cooked. As Scott entered the room, the smell of a recently heated “Chunky Soup” wafted through the air. The room was brightly lit up, but had the feel of a stuffy cafeteria. It was like an adult school lunchroom. Only missing were the parts where someone came up and tried to trade you part of their lunch. This was substituted by someone coming up and asking for a trade of major life decisions, in the form of small talk.
In the break room was a refrigerator that was next to the sink, which was flanked by a coffee machine on the other side. Scott went right to the coffee maker with 10 oz. foam coffee cup in hand. Also in the room was a table of 3 women, Gloria, Marissa, and Joyce. 3 older women who sat together for breaks and lunch every day, talking about their lives and gossip mostly. There were also times where they wouldn’t talk and just stare while the other ate. Today they were in full conversation as Scott walked into the room but then quickly quieted down when he was in the room. He had the weird sensation that maybe they were talking about him.
“Why would they talk about me?” Scott wondered to himself. Aside from an office birthday party at Buffalo Wild Wings that everyone went attended one random Friday night four months ago, these women knew nothing about Scott outside of this office. Scott saw the coffee pot was low, but still tried to get the last drops into his cup. He picked the pot off the burner and poured what was left into his cup. It filled it halfway. He lifted the cup to his nose and smelt. The smell was uplifting as coffee always is, but when he took a sip it tasted like burnt coffee, only comparable to a cup you’d get at some remote gas station in unknown backwoods town.
Without hesitation Scott refilled the coffee in the coffee maker. Everyone’s pet peeve in the office is coming up to an empty coffee maker. The selfishness required to not refill the coffee maker is as evil as not paying child support or not buying chocolate from of an underprivileged child. Scott didn’t mind making coffee, if anything he had a reputation around the office as being one of the better coffee makers in the office. He knew the exact amount of coffee grinds to water ratio that make a brew that’s strong, yet not overpowering, plus it gave him an excuse to stay away from his desk for a few extra minutes.
While making the coffee the girls at the table kept speaking sporadically with a muted volume. Scott’s anxiety made him think they were talking about him and he enjoyed the thought so much he loosened up his movements and made himself look cool while preparing the coffee. When he opened the bag of coffee gave an extra oomph while tearing the bag. Then he kind of moved his hips and shimmied his arms like he was putting on a show. He was showing off making coffee like one of these women was a casting director and would put him in a coffee commercial where they need a young, mid to late 20’s white male who can act like he likes making coffee.
Scott left the kitchen and walked back out to the office. As he walked through the breakroom’s door frame he could feel the pressure of the office bearing down on him. They say when your in space just floating without a space suit you’re body literally explodes from the expansion. In the office the exact opposite happens where you body starts folding in on itself and you shrink. The force of gravity is somehow magnified and your body starts angling down to the ground. By the time you make it back to your desk you’re almost looking behind you through your legs.
He walked back down the aisle, now with a half full cup of hot coffee. His legacy coffee brewing in the break room he knew whoever would get that first cup out of that pot was the luckiest person in the office. He passed by Mark again who recognized Scott by yelling out, “Hey Scott”, still not breaking eye contact with his monitor. He walked past Mark’s row of cubes and into the intersection of the aisle he was walking and the perpendicular aisle. He had every option in front of him now. He could continue walking straight, or turn right and go towards his desk, or he could go left, which was the door out of the building. How badly he wanted to turn left. He could just walk out of the building and never see or hear from any of these people ever again. He’s had this thought every day since he began working here. “Some day” he thought to himself. He turned right and and then cut an immediate left where he walked up to his friend Cindy’s desk. Cindy was known as the hot girl in the office. By most standards she was average, but if there was a beauty competition among the girls in the office, she would win hands down. Her and Scott meshed instantly as they found common ground as the only 2 people in the office that life hadn’t buried into the office. She constantly reminded Scott that she was only in the office, biding her time while her dream job became available. She had been in the office for two years waiting for the email to come through from “Big Wave Surf School” in Costa Rica offering her a job as a surf instructor. She waited 2 years for that email to come, and assured Scott every day that it was probably coming soon.
“You didn’t get me any coffee?” She asked Scott as he stood at her cubicle, arms laying on the top of the half cube, coffee in one hand, occassionally reaching up to his face to pour the now luke-warm black liquid into his mouth. “I just made a fresh batch.” He responded with a smile, knowing that his flirting was as cool as his quickly cooling coffee. “Did you bring lunch?” She asked. “Of course I did. It’s only Tuesday, I was on my game this morning.” He responded. “Shit, I didn’t. I have to order something. Do you know if the girls are getting anything?” “It’s Tuesday.” He responded. “Of course they’re getting something.” She laughed as she knew all this was meant to say was, of course they’re getting something because they order out every day.
“Scott please go back to your desk.” A voice from the nothingness of surrounding cubicles rang out. It was the voice of Scott’s manager, Gloria. Gloria was a stickler for fraternizing on business time. Every week she reemphasized that business hours were meant for work, and if you wanted chat, that’s why you had 2, 15 minute breaks and a 30 minute lunch. She had also had numerous conversations about Scott and Cindy’s relationship with the two of them. She could not hear Scott’s voice as he was good at muting it while speaking to Cindy, but the laughter is what blew their cover. If someone was laughing in the office it could be heard throughout the entire room. Laughter had an echo in this environment which made people pause. It was like someone standing in the room holding a gun yelling nobody move! It got your attention and immediately made you think something wasn’t right. If you were laughing you weren’t working and that just wasn’t tolerated on business hours.
“Ok, gotta go.” Scott said with a sarcastic twang. Just before leaving he mimed himself typing on a computer, mouthing the words, “Message me.” Cindy smiled and winked. Scott walked back down the way he came and reached the intersection of torture and bliss and took the right that led him to his desk. His screen saver was still on his computer. It was the default Windows Screen savor where the Windows windows bounced around the screen. Unlike the employees who filled this with pictures of their kids or scenery from vacation past, Scott didn’t have any pictures appropriate enough for a screen savor. The screen savor also meant that he had been away from his desk for too long. He never knew the exact amount of time it took for the screen savor to come up, only that if it did come up he was gone too long.
He looked around like a spy who was going into a room that he wasn’t supposed to be in and moved his mouse so his desktop would come up. Like a reflex he went into his Outlook email and saw 7 new emails. His box had been flooded in the fifteen or so minutes that he wasted with coffee. He quickly scanned the “From” section of the emails. Gloria, Gloria, HQ, Amazon Prime, La Soiree HR…. La Soiree HR? “NO WAY!!” He thought to himself. He opened up the email by double clicking and read the paragraph:
“Dear Scott. Thank you for your inquiry into the open juggler/MC job with our production. Unfortuntaely we have received many inquiries for this role and due to the high demand we have chosen to go with another juggler. Please continue to go on your path as you are very talented….” Scott stopped reading and hit delete. He took a sip of coffee. It was cold.
We’re becoming fish. It’s something that the government knows, but will not make public. The process has been happening for years, right under our noses, but we’re so caught up at fish fry’s, busting open clams with our hands (that will soon disappear) and looking for our own personal tartar sauce to paddle around in to notice what’s really happening. Humans are slaves to the fish. We eat them, we use their oil, we roll them in seaweed and charge an arm and a leg (again both of which wont soon be necessary) and call it sushi. Is it too far fetched to think that our DNA is being over-run by fish DNA? Is it?
Knowing that eventually most land will be under water and there will be no more fish in the water, humans are setting themselves up to make the trek back into the sea. At some point millions of years ago we crawled out of the water, learned to climb trees, and then eventually walk on 2 legs. But we’ve never really let go of our love of water. We learned to go back and dabble in it by swimming. We hold the beach as a vacation gold standard. We need water to survive. We are made up of 75% water. It’s like we love the water and this land experiment is only temporary. Like we’ve always known we are going to return to the water and being on land is just an experiment while the earth works itself out with this whole global warming thing. Humans wouldn’t be the 1st mammal to make the jump from land to water. Millions of years ago the creodont, a wolf-like mammal that lived on the coast of an ancient sea by Pakistan was too slow and weak to survive on land and was like, I’m takin a dip. Evolution saw this and was like, you know, you’d make a good sea creature, and thus became the whale. It’s so cray. This summer when your paddling around in the water at a pool party, just know you’re being prepped for the great migration.