Cindy

Droog

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February 19, 2009

Eavesdropping on Tiny Town: A Tribute

First, allow me to explain Tiny Town.

‘Tis a place of no luxuries. A place where – much like a crowded dinner table – if your left elbow sticks out too far while you try to type, you’ll hit the person next to you. Its walls are tan; its desks a slightly different shade of tan; and its furniture, just a tad tanner than that.

Tiny Town is a group of very small cubicles set up for the contractors that work for my company. There are as many of them as there are little white hairs on the top of the couch cushion my cat sleeps on all day. And that’s a lot.

I personally don’t work in Tiny Town, but I have friends who do. This column is to help them look at the bright side of life.

First of all, you can overhear some pretty funny things in Tiny Town that those of us with cubicles of normal width, height and depth cannot. For example, in walking past Tiny Town this week, I heard the following hilarities, and I quote:

“I’m thinking in matrixes.” 

It was unfortunate that as I heard this phrase, I happened to have a sip of coffee in my mouth, which proceeded to burst forth onto the carpet and my shoes. (In miracle fashion, my white blouse was somehow saved!)

If you think in matrixes, how do you communicate? I’m guessing – and I know this is a wild one – you do it with Power Point slides with loads of Excel spreadsheets imported into them. That’s cool. I’m just not sure it’s something to go around bragging about.

Also overheard:

“I have a visual allergy to that man.”

Thankful that there was no coffee involved this time, I’ve now stolen that particular phrase for my very own, for that is how much I loved and adored it.

Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. Those people who, just by the mere sight of them, a little pit develops in your stomach. They’re coming toward you? It takes all of your might to keep your feet firmly planted so as not to run in the opposite direction.

You, my friend, have a visual allergy to someone. And that’s OK. I’m here to tell you that you are not – by any means – alone.

There are certain phrases, however, that those in Tiny Town with their contractor status would not be likely to utter. Ones that you can only hear when walking by an executive’s office. I overheard this one earlier this week. (The name has been changed to protect the innocent.)

“It’s top-down, Geoff. That’s the only way it works around here.”

Granted, I have no idea what “it” is. Is “it” the scheduling of the corporate jet? Because then, yeah, I can see how top-down might be the best way to handle that. Otherwise, I’d be asking to borrow it so I could go see a Cleveland Indians exhibition game next weekend.

If “it” referred to the budgeting process, then that makes sense, too. That way, I’ll be prevented from attending that training seminar in Prague that I just read about.

More likely, “it” referred to something more amusing, insulting or just plain stupid. Probably about who can send an email to whom without breaking the chain of command. We’re kind of into that sort of thing around here.

Which brings me back to why I much prefer unintentional eavesdropping on Tiny Town. I get to laugh. I get to appreciate where they’re coming from. I get to overhear conversations that go like this:

“Surely, you can’t be serious that we’re rescheduling that meeting for the ninth time.”

“Yes. We are. And don’t call me Shirley!”

A sense of humor prevails in Tiny Town. Besides, it’s hard to get an inferiority complex in a place where you’re sitting close enough to your coworker to lick his ear.   

© 2009 North Star Writers Group. May not be republished without permission.

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