Wednesday, October 08, 2003 They are lying
I don't know if you knew this, but work is creepy. The nature of the job is pretty bad and all, but the actually workplace may be worse. The mate calls it the politiburo.
It's in an office park in some fairly far-flung suburbs. It is near things like waffle restuarants and car dealerships.
Our "office" is on the first floor. It is a large, ugly, flourescently lit room with oyster-colored carpeting that might hide vomit stains fairly well. There are about a dozen aisle of demi-cubicles, all of which contain a computer, a monitor, a mousepad, and list of rules. It is connected to a slightly fancier office. The people who do my job are not allowed in there.
In this room, there is receptionist's desk, pictures of Barry Goldwater, a crystal urn full of candy corn, and a discreet bust of Ronald Reagan.
Recently, there's been some remodeling of an office suite across the hall from us, even closer than the office of the assholes who won't let us use their candy machine even when ours is broken. I can't say I've been curious about who's moving in, because I really can't muster up emotion of any kind on the job site.
Except last week, a piece of blue tape went up on the door of the myster office suite. Magic markered onto it: WACKENHUT.
Jokes about super-soldiers were made.
Today, two mysterious crew-cutted, straight postured males we'd never seen before were found standing outside the office on two separate occaisions.
The mate asked "Are you fellows from Wackenhut?"
They looked at each other. "Uh, no." They looked back and forth. "Wackenhut, huh? That sure sounds funny? Huh?" They said.
We backed away slowly.
Later, in the car as we went to go buy candy for dinner, the mate put it together. "No young professionals their age wouldn't have heard of Wackenhut. Clearly, they're Wackenhut."
We're going to monitor them for future signs of super-soliderdom. posted by Frenz | 10/08/2003 11:03:00 PM
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