Welcome to the Water Cooler

I'm in the first cube, of the first row. Front and center. It's awful.

That's what I thought Thursday morning when I moved into this new cube. Thursday afternoon the employees from the tenth floor moved up here. It started out ok. There was one new guy diagonally across from me. He seemed nice. More importantly he seemed quiet.

Then, late Thursday, somebody moved into the cube right next to me. He's loud. He was on his cell phone as he was setting his stuff up and for the rest of the afternoon. When some of his buddies came by the first thing he asked was

"Where's Jim? Where's Jimmy-Crack-Corn? Is Crack-Corn up here on this floor?"

What the hell is that? That's the nickname you gave him? "Jimmy-Crack-Corn? Honestly?

I'm not going to introduce myself to him. If he gives me a stupid nickname I'd be tempted to reach across the cube and clock him.

But it gets worse. I'm in the first cube. Right near the entrance, the kitchen, the small conference room, the copier, and the fax machine. This office doesn't have a water cooler for people to gather around to discuss last night's episode of 24 or Monday Night Football, or their commute.

They've got my desk.

But it gets worse.

This morning, as I was sitting quietly at my desk, listening to my ipod, searching for plane tickets (farecast.com) I hear this guy over the wall call out "Hey! Jimmy-Crack-Corn! How was your Christmas?!"

To which this big guy, Jimmy, apparently, bellows, in his best Fat Albert impression "HEY-HEY-HEY!!".


AUGH.
-t