Evolution of an Office

Written for the enjoyment of my co-workers for my last day of work at the job I worked at for 4 3/4 years before deciding to leave. The name of the company has been changed for reasons one usually changes that type of information.

Walking into the Dairy Farm I may shiver from the chill and realize I can’t name everyone on the opposite side of the partition, but when I think back to the spaces that have housed Fake Name Communications, Inc., I’ll take the chill and nameless faces any day– after all there is a seating chart I can look at.

Almost five years ago I walked into the office on my first day and was greeted by Will Smith, Tommy Lee Jones, and Darth Vader. These celebrities turned out to be gatekeepers to a Jungle of tiny red monkeys hanging out not in a barrel but from a canopy of gray wiry cords where the natives flung not their own feces but rubber bands. Amid this chaos I was so inducted into the society of Crack Counters.

Soon the wilds of the Jungle were to be traded in for a shiny new habitat. Unforeseen exile, however, came first. Feeling like vagabonds we pitched our tents in the conference room below our Jungle. In the cramped confines of Camp, this brief period brought together neighboring groups and forced us to share everything.

One day Camp moved to the City of Towering Boxes in the garage of the newly built Tradewinds. It was spacious, gray, and unfriendly. Our group only interacted with former Camp-mates while waiting in line for the one functioning bathroom. We had to build great shields to be used against our new nemesis – the Afternoon Sun. The onset of the Dust Period is little documented, but those who lived through it will never forget.

The opening of bathrooms for both sexes harbingered the Big Move. Excitement mounted as our sun-blinded eyes were ushered into the soothing darkness of the Cave. The shadows promised cooler temperatures and victory over the Sun. Months passed. Our eyes continued to squint, now from the Darkness. The brightest area of the Cave taunted us, showing how time passed – in each time zone. Both the light and heat the Sun provided were missed.

The population of the Cave grew with a new society of Asset Extractors. The leaders of the Cave soon promised yet another home. We questioned this new home’s existence and speculated what perils we would face. We had already experienced the wilds of the Jungle, the unsettledness of Camp, the blindingly bright City, and the dark Cave. Our elders told the Extractors that hoping for better was a fool’s errand.

Those of us who first visited the new dwelling named Dairy Farm did not seem very confident.  There were murmurs of “too much light”, “too much space.” Once we moved, and our eyes adjusted, the Crack Counters and Asset Extractors took to our newest environment. In a matter of weeks we “Cave Dwellers” made the transformation into “Office Employees”.

Four and three-quarter years later I may no longer be greeted daily by movie stars nor know everyone’s name but my eyes are no longer squinting, my coat is rarely worn and like I said before, I can always check the Office seating chart.

© copyright Lindsay M. Hinkle 2011

LCD Series ~ Mix One

The LCD Series a.k.a. Lowest Common Denominator Series is my contribution to this mixtape group I am a part of. The first album has the theme of 2012 as we are just forming and wanted to start with a retrospective of our year and the year in music.

Call Me Maybe  ♦  Carly Rae Jepsen

Everyday (Coolin’)  ♦  Swizz Beatz ft. Eve

Make Some Noise  ♦  Beastie Boys

Daddy  ♦  Emeli Sandé ft. Naughty Boy

Whispering  ♦  Alex Clare

Lover of the Light  ♦  Mumford & Sons

Two Against One  ♦  Danger Mouse & Daniele Luppi ft. Jack White

Top Billin  ♦  Audio Two

Waterloo  ♦  ABBA

Someday  ♦  Middle Brother

What Doesn’t Kill You (Stronger)  ♦  Kelly Clarkson

Boyfriend  ♦  Justin Bieber

Three MCs and One DJ  ♦  Beastie Boys

Insane In The Brain  ♦  Cypress Hill

Domino  ♦  Jessie J

Go Girl  ♦  Pitbull ft. Trina & Young Boss

In Case It Doesn’t Work Out  ♦  Charles Hamilton

Grammar Hammer

(to the tune of MC Hammer’s U Can’t Touch This)

Can’t spell this/Can’t write this/Can’t spell this/Can’t write this

My, my, my grammar hits me so hard/Makes me say “oh my word”/Sentences be filling me/In my mind all these verbs I see/It feels good when spelled correct/Adjective, noun, or predicate/And I’m known as such/The Grammar Hammer, you can’t touch

I told you, schoolboy (can’t spell this)/Yeah, that’s how we scribing and you know (can’t write this)/Look at these words, man (can’t spell this)/Yo, let me bust the funky parlance

Give me a phrase or diction/Turn those toos to twos, did I mention/They’re not their/You listen to Grammar Hammer, he really does care/A Wordsmith and hip/A comma for the clause, don’t you trip/And do remember/A pause doesn’t mean one you must enter/Ante-cedent/Either work hard or you might as well quit

Yo, I told you (can’t spell this)/Why you standing there, man (can’t write this)/Yo, sound the bell. Grammar school’s in, pupil (can’t spell this)

That’s the word because you wrote…..

Can’t spell this/Can’t write this/Jot it down!/Stop. Grammar Time!

Every time you scrawl/The grammar’s got to be tight/I’m boss on the pen and I’m wicked with the type/Now why would I ever stop revising you?/With others making blunders, they just won’t do/I’ve taught around the slang, from fo shizzle to mmmkay/It’s “Grammar, Go Grammar, Grammar Hammer, Yo Grammar”/And the rest can go and say.

Can’t spell this/Can’t write this/Can’t spell this/Can’t write this/Can’t spell this/Can’t write this/Can’t spell this/Can’t write this

© copyright Lindsay M. Hinkle 2009