True Tales: Only Office Happens

True Tales: Only Office Happens

(c) Leo G Campbell     4/20/2016

Only Office Happens: Tales

  1. Our nonprofit, on the top two floors a small downtown Portland office building. Frank and I installed his desk, chair, wastebasket, floor lamp, inside the tiny elevator, timed it to the second – Howard, our Director, returning from lunch, pressed the ground floor lobby, ‘Up’ button. When the elevator car arrived, the doors slid open to reveal Frank, sitting at his desk, working. Pause. Frank looked up,  “Howard? I’ve been meaning to complain about the cramped office space.”
  2. George, on our staff, grew up in an East Coast orphanage. He said he never got a single visitor, in all the years he grew up there.
  3. Quietly, he said, remembering, “Most of all the rest of the kids had visitors at the weekend, at least. Maybe a counselor, clergy, social worker. I used to sit on my bed, listen to the PA announcements, “Johnny, please come to the front desk, you have a visitor,” from a speaker in the hall.
  4. I called it, “The Box On The Wall.” I listened to it all weekend, all my time in the orphanage. It never called, “George, you have a visitor.”
  5. George: “When I was grown, the orphanage let me out, I was on a road out of town, I saw a strange animal outside the window, I had seen it in books. I had the bus stop. I found out it was a cow. I took a picture of it.”
  6. Todd, my boss, had an annoying habit at office meetings, taking a 36″wood classroom pointer, waving it around, for the duration of the meeting. I suggested, “Let’s take one inch off – the pointer- each week.” And so, I would take the pointer out to the shop each Monday, for the official unknown cutting; this went on for 15 weeks or 15 inches… the pointer was now only 21 inches long. Part of Todd’s annoying habit with the pointer, after he picked it up, he would lean back in his office chair, feet up on the desk, and stroke the ceiling over his shoulder with the pointer tip… until now.. his pointer didn’t reach anywhere…  anymore…
  7. Jeff  wanted to dress up like a bum/wino; we had them all around, on nearby streets by the office. Corporate CEOs too, striding the sidewalks returning from lunch.
  8. Jeff would stumble, shamble forward, bumping, into a chosen CEO, “Sir, do you have a mere dollar, for my needs? Help me, sir. I can help you.” Of course, the CEO is recovering in distaste, from ‘this bum’ – then Jeff pauses, as we wheel out on the sidewalk, an office conference room display board – covered with charts – Jeff whips out a laser pointer, begins his lecture: “… and as I conclude, the market research shows… “

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