Chronicles of a Cubicle Life: Wednesday, 10/08/14
In my cubicle I often wear headphones. Sometimes I listen to music and secretly dance in my chair (yes, I’ve been caught before, thanks a lot Tyga!), or I could be listening to a documentary, maybe a podcast. Depending on my project, I might have a lot of free space in my head for entertainment; it’s definitely one of the perks of my job and cube location. However, there are times when I don’t have anything blocking out the noises of our office area, and those times are exciting, annoying, and sometimes terrifying.
I wish I had explanations for the sounds I hear, but I don’t.
There’s nail clippers, which didn’t disgust me until a cube friend told me that they saw them being used on someone’s toe nails (gag).
I love the long, loud, drawn out, and often inappropriate and misplaced laugh that bursts over my cubicle wall, often followed by an uncomfortable pause for all involved.
Occasionally I can hear someone else’s music streaming through their headphones, reminding me to check mine the next time I hit play.
On certain Fridays, a group of people play jeopardy, off of those one-a-day calendars. Sometimes it’s rowdy, but on Fridays no one really cares. When I can hear I like to play along in my head. I rarely know the answers. I’ll never be the next Ken Jennings.
There’s loud, angry guy, unafraid to yell at whomever or whatever has offended him. He shocks me with his bold tone, unaware or uncaring of who’s around him.
Whenever someone brings a kid in, there’s a flock of ladies who turn into complete giddy, inappropriate child snatchers. They make such a fuss it’s beyond irritating. I feel bad for the kids who are not yet old enough to be left at home, but too old to be offered dusty candy from a lady whose voice is raised three octaves, smiling at them with her head cocked to the side.
But my least favorite noise in the office is something that happens every. single. day. Sometime around 1:30, out of the depths of a neighbor cube, comes forth the loudest, wettest, most unapologetic belch. Every. Single. Day. For the people around, it produces gags, wrinkled noses, disgusted sighs, but from the belcher, nothing. No excuses, no apologies, no muffling or shuffling to try and cover it up. Nothing but the belch that comes from deep within their gut, torturing us all. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.