the cube
6 September 1999

  I was sitting in my cubicle, affectionately named the veal-fattening pen. I wasn't getting much done and was staring at my IBM clone surrounded by a sea of Post-it Notes, rock band posters ripped off construction site hoarding boards, and a small sepia photo of a wooden wailing ship, crushed in the Antarctic ice, that I once found in an old National Geographic.

...Douglas Coupland, Generation X

  

Upon entering the workspace that Todd and I share, the only question is which item you'll ask about first. You see, the fact that "the cube" will stir within you both fascination and wonder is the surest thing I can imagine.

The world map that covers the entirety of the corner where Todd's desk meets mine may quickly draw you in, as might the "game-pieces" with our names and pictures on them, strewn about countries and continents with a haphazard toss. Or maybe you're the kind of keen observer that will notice that Todd has penciled in our own building operations go-to-guy, Stan Ozereko, among the long list of "...stan" countries near Russia. Either way, your brow is sure to wrinkle quizzically.

Or let us explain, in great detail, with unbridled enthusiasm, the origin of each of the McDonald's Fried Apple Pie boxes that you'll see pinned to textured wall. The nuances of the Berlin and München apfeltasche. The striking similarity between Sweden's "Varning: Het Fyllning!" and our well-tested theory that the entire Swedish language really sounds like English spoken with the Swedish Chef Muppet's thick accent.

Perhaps the day you visit the cube will be a lucky one and HVAC will be eagerly flooding each vent with sick-building-syndrome air. If so, you won't be able to ignore the billowing capes on the three superhero Pez dispensers. You'll step closer to inspect these gauzy cape creations; but, before you can guess the texture, you'll hear an authoritative whisper in your ear, "wedding invitation tissue paper."

You'll find yourself pondering the fate of the pink marshmallow-peep bunnies. Just one simple question and you'll encounter a historical, yet scientific, account of their soft-to-hard-back-to-soft phenomenon over the last three and a half years. The ugly details of past "staleness" tests may be hard to hear, first standing on them and then (*gasp*) running them over with my car in the back parking lot. But happiness will abound at the end of it all when chatter turns to the brilliant creation of pink Play-doh prosthetic ears.

You'll be sure to quickly realize that one visit to this cube isn't enough to satiate your curiosity. After all, exhibits revolve and expand at the blink of an eye. A tasteless jar of ice cream sprinkles can turn into a "white rabbit" trophy in less than an hour. And one can't predict the genius of how a simple two-week old glass of water turns into a conversation piece when the following Post-it is attached: "www.humidifers-on-a-budget.com".

But don't just take my word for it. Come experience it for yourself. Sit with us among the chaos and the crayons and the autographed picture of Omar Vizquel and ponder life's overwhelming mystery: "We get paid for this?"

Where do you work?