The office

“Are we going to Big Bowl today?” I ask. We sit less than 30 seconds away from each other but we’re talking on the phone.

“Yep,” replies Jim the IT guy. “I’m checking out their menu on-line.”

“They’ve got a spicy cashew thing that’s pretty good,” I say.

“Okay, you get the spicy cashew shrimp,” he says. “I’ll get the orange chicken and we’ll share.”

“That’s what I like about you. We’re not even there yet and you’ve already figured out what we’re having.”
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We do these welcome lunch things here at work. I might’ve mentioned it – four of us representing the various departments take new hires to lunch to let them know what we’re all about and make them feel, well, welcome.

It’s a good process but today will be my third welcome lunch in three days and I’m a) tired of restaurant food and b) really tired of being perky, fun and interesting and c) really, really tired of trying to be interested in a new hire that I won’t see again until the holiday party in December because he’ll be working at a client in Minneapolis.
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We’ve got a fancy-shmancy phone system in our office. It lets me program special ring tones. When I first started it was Curly saying “Nyuk nyuk nyuk!”

Now it’s Cartman from South Park saying “Yeah, I want Cheesy Poofs!”

Our recruiter’s phone sounds like Chewbacca when someone calls. It irritates our HR chick but I love it.

The other thing I love is the call-screening feature. When you call me, you will hear a very polite feminine voice ask “Who may I say is calling?”

You’re supposed to say your name so I can decide if I want to speak with you. It’s awesome. One of the best inventions ever, ever.

A lot of people refuse to say their name, thinking they can sneak through. I wish there was a way to save them the trouble of calling because I will never, ever speak with them.

I always, always pick up for “Abe Froman.”

That’s my friend Jeff calling.

Because seriously, who doesn’t want to speak with the Sausage King of Chicago?
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Beer is big where I work. There are mini-fridges in practically every office. Guinness is the standard but there’s always plenty of Miller Lite in the kitchen fridge. Last week someone brought in a case of Schlitz and it disappeared in less than a day.

After 3 p.m. there are always one or two guys walking around the office with beer. For any meeting happening after 5, it is mandatory.
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“The wireless network is being a Dirty Stinking Whore today,” I tell Jim the IT guy via IM.

I love that I can tell him that and he knows exactly what to do to make it better.

I also love when Brian the Recruiter sings and dances around the office. Yesterday it was “My Girl Wants to Party All the Time” by Eddie Murphy.

Watching a hairy yet balding Jewish dude shake his ass down the hall is what makes being here in the office so goddamn good.
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I am listening to: The fan on my desk
I am reading: Obamarama
And I am: So glad to be here