Haven’t posted here in a while due to a few minor inconveniences (i.e. moving, disruption in internet services, etc.) and prolific abuse of overtime privileges (i.e. coming in today at 9 a.m. to help out an already overstaffed client support queue). In fact, I’ve put in 52.5 hours this week (as of 1p.m. this afternoon), a small percentage in which I have offered any reasonable service to anything or anyone besides my wallet.
A few things I would like to touch on concerning the new place:
- The view is brilliant. I have my doubts that anyone in the city of Columbus has a better view of downtown C-Bus at night from their bed when their blinds are drawn. It’s like the place was made for people with a low enough self-esteem to make such an observation.
- The service at the Seneca has been excellent. I came to move in at 11a.m. having not signed a single page of our lease agreement and had a key, parking pass, and building badge in my hands within a little over a half hour. Even more impressive, the leasing consultant I worked with later told me this was his part time job and that he was still a student at OSU.
- My roommate and I have reached an unbelievable level of abstraction in making jokes about the view. Highlights: a.) after a 10.5 hour day of work I walked in and immediately offered, “Well, you have to earn the view.” b.) my roommate mentioned that as a punishment for editors note: engaging in nondescript possibly illegal activities in our apartment the Seneca would probably drop a “Who Shot Mr. Burns”-esque metal block over our view, and it would serve as a mirror for us to look back at ourselves, the people solely responsible for ruining our view c.) after suggesting that the old Seneca hotel may have been haunted, in a creepy voice I said, “How do you like the view?”
- It really is awesome to be back in civilization. Even if it’s civilization with late 80′s technology (read: no internet, cable).
It's not a question of whether you are jealous of my view, it's a question of whether your jealousy poses a threat to my likelihood of being alive to see the view tomorrow.
Now that all of that is out of the way, I would like to get to my main topic for this comeback post. It’s been a long week, and I’ve seen a lot of crazy behavior. I refuse to pass up the opportunity to criticize such behavior… if you know me, you know that it’s what I live for.
One of the more captivating benefits of a fifty-two hour work week is the inevitability that it will put you in the position to see at least a few dark aspects of human nature. Despite my undying passion for witnessing such events, I have a particular sensitivity when I am involved in them; in fact normally when I see someone display self-absorbed or inconsiderate behavior I crawl into my shell like a turtle. I am simply not willing to accept the social responsibility of being able to see when someone’s being a douche when they are clearly oblivious to it.
During one of my 10-hour days, I overheard two women in adjacent seats who were having a socially relevant conversation regarding the importance of male role models in an man’s adolescent period. Being a man who is easily interested in hypotheses concerning the root causes of psychological behavior, I slowly keyed in on the conversation. It was moderately interesting, but for the wrong reasons. I started to notice that the conversation went like this (I don’t remember the real names):
<Woman A>: Mark missed out on having that physical rough style of play when he was growing up, and I think it made him more sensitive.
<Woman B>: Sean felt always said that he had two mothers growing up, because my sister helped out so much around the house.
<Woman A>: I wish Mark would have had a positive man in his life to serve as a role model.
<Woman B>: Sean definitely needs someone to show him how to be successful man.
Well… you get it. It was a compelling paradox: there was no overlap whatsoever to their conversation, but each party was ostensibly aware of what the other was saying.
Is this how normal people talk? Is this how I talk? Probably not, considering the fact that I found it difficult to write the above sequence without any transitonal phrases like “well thats interesting because” or “I’ve noticed the exact same thing.” Is my perfunctory use of transitions during a conversation a good thing, or is it just something I throw in to appease the object of my narcissistic rants?
It’s easy to come to the conclusion that this phenomenon, the “multi-person conversation in a vacuum,” is somewhat limited to trivial work discussions, which are often very superficial in nature. The expectations of superficiality in personal conversations at work must lead people to decide that if they aren’t allowed to delve deeply into their personal gripes and experiences, they won’t consider even a word of what a co-worker has to say. I remember a time when one of my co-workers was talking about getting back to working out (a subject which is often one of the usual victims of the Conversation Vacuum) in an almost prosaic manner that was impossible to interrupt. It went a little like this:
<Co-Worker>: Yeah I’ve been trying to get back to working out, so a couple friends and I went to the gym…
<Me>: Yeah, I tried to workout some–
<Co-Worker>:… It’s a lot easier to work out when you’re competing with your buddies. You know, we’re just throwing weight on the bench and competing to see who can do the most reps. It’s a lot more fun like that than doing it on your own…
<Me> Yeah, I agree. Even with running it’s easier–
<Co-Worker> …so yeah, we get together and work out a couple times a week. Well, sorry, I’ve gotta get back from break.
As far as my co-worker was concerned, our entire conversation may as well have occured inside one of these.
The apology was unnecessary. His return to work was a tremendous weight that was lifted from my shoulders. Not only was I free from the responsibility of feigning interest in his story, I was instantly free of the guilt I felt in reinforcing his antisocial behavior.
Here’s my solution to this phenomenon: On your spare time at work, post in your blog. No one can interrupt your memoirs that way, if they comment you can easily ignore them. (Let’s be honest, that’s you what you already do, and this method saves you from criticism by sane co-workers.) If they want to hear about how you are finally deciding to shed the pounds or how you are incensed about one of your friend’s sons playing rough with your kid, they can always read your latest entry… not that you should hold your breath.
Either work or blog, that’s what I say to the Vacuum Crowd. The Firm doesn’t pay you to make a fool of yourself.
