I work in an office in a plush cubicle. I’m lying. It’s just a crappy little cubicle. It does have 3 and a half sides though and the walls are pretty high, so people can’t easily sneak up on me when i’m fucking around on the web, so for that I’m thankful.
I work on the executive floor , so if you have an idea of what that’s like, all the brass have offices along the wall, while us cubicle workers are huddled in the middle. One of the VPs even has one of those mini golf putting strips with a shiny Titliest putter leaning against the wall. The cubicle consortium is comprised of myself, another black guy, and 3 white women. All the VPs are white males and the cubicle consortium supports them. Hey, it is what it is.
So coming into work, I do my best to gird myself with positive thoughts to withstand the onslaught of office small talk that I’d rather not have, but it’s a necessary evil. Don’t know what office small talk is? Here’s an excerpt of your standard fare:
Dan the VP: “Hey Corduroy! How was your weekend?”
Corduroy: “Hey Dan! It was pretty good! How bout yours?”
Dan the VP: “Oh it was pretty good. The wife had me doing yardwork and I took the boys to the (insert minor/major league baseball team here) game.”
Corduroy: “That’s great! I bet they had a ball! Did they get hot dogs? Hot dogs at a baseball game are a must!”
Dan the VP: “You betcha! And I’m with you on that one. Hot dogs at a ball game taste so much better than ones at home!”
Corduroy: “Right. Ok Dan, gotta get back to work. Take care!”
Dan the VP: “You too Corduroy!”
Now I don’t really give a sh*t about his weekend, his boys, or hot dogs at a baseball game, but I have to feign interest to shield him from the real me. Basically in my head I’m thinking “Man, I don’t give a fuck what you’re talking about and my salary is probably a tenth of yours. #@*% YOU! PAY ME! I just want to get through the day, getting in about two productive hours out of the eight i’m scheduled to work, go home, and turn on my Xbox 360.“
Sometimes the office speak touches on subjects that I’m not familiar with, and that could lead to awkward moments in these small exchanges. Now, even though I’m a (relatively) young black guy, and they’re white dudes in their 40s and 50s, we’re all men, so there will always be that universal commonality: sports. Of course the weather is always your fail-safe subject, but I usually reserve that for the white women in the office who I pretty much have nothing in common with. But I digress…
Occasionally I may get asked about some televised golfing event, and I don’t watch golf or keep up with it. I’ve been told numerous times that golfing is fun, great for networking, and yadda yadda, and eventually I’ll get around to it, but for now I’m not into golf. Now Dan the VP might ask me if I saw Tiger the past weekend, and unfortunately I hadn’t, and rather than lying and saying that I did (which could be disastrous), I admit that I hadn’t. Now I can’t blame Dan the VP for asking me if I saw Tiger, and I appreciate his efforts at trying to make another connection. I mean after all, Tiger is black (regardless of what he calls himself), so understandably Dan the VP would think I keep up with him in all his 18 hole conquests. So after I admitted that I don’t keep up with golf, I’m left wondering if he thinks I’m just some common negro with no knowledge of the leisure activities of high society or at least the upper middle class.
To avoid moments like these, I found it best to have prepackaged office speak ready to head those fuckers off at the pass. I use these as my starters:
1. “Did you see (insert sporting event that I am familiar with here)?”
2. “What do you think about (insert current event that you are familiar with here)?”
3. “Big plans for the weekend?”
4. “what did you do for the weekend?”
and the fail safe
5. “Looks like we’re gonna have (insert weatherman’s prediction here) weather!”
When I initiate the convo, I can maintain control of its content and time. This is pretty handy because the usual place that I encounter Dan the VP is….you guessed it….the men’s bathroom. I hate encountering or talking to anyone in the bathroom really, but I don’t wanna be an *ss, and maybe Dan the VP doesn’t wanna be an *ss either, so the convo is unavoidable!!
Now, when I’m in my baller ass cubicle, i’m insulated from the officespeak. But when I have to use the bathroom, I feel it creeping up on me. I’m not far from the bathroom, so when I start to feel a pressure in my bladder, my hearing goes JJ Fad and I can hear people’s goings and comings. I try to time it so that I’m in and out lickety split.
When I reach the end of the day unscathed having adroitly handled myself in these officespeak battles, I feel triumphant, and I look forward to tomorrow and maintain hopes that one day I’ll have an office fitted with a Nerf basketball hoop over the door like the one Theo and Cockroach used to play on. But for now, all I can do is walk past those offices with real chairs, bookcases, and real doors that shut, and think to myself as I pass by Dan the VP……
“*%@# you Dan.“
This is hilarious, and anybody in corporate America can relate. Can’t wait to hear what other sage advice you have for navigating office politics.
Ha. You’re a part of the cubicle nation. I feel you!!! But imagine having an office then the company moving and ending up back in a cubicle?! Man, that was part of the reason I quit. You can’t give a person a door then take it away. Now, when I go into the office, I don’t have an office or a cube. It’s every man for him(her)self. You find a chair, flat surface, and try to get near a plug–for your laptop. I’m depressed just thinking about it.
Cord, welcome.
“A” says your initial post reminded her of me. She’s right. Except that you’re a young guy and have time to escape the cubicle warren of corporate support hell. I assume you’re not married and have no kids.
I, on the other hand, am 48, and got caught in this corporate trap back in 2000 after having a nice little newspaper career. I’m still chewing on my leg in an effort to escape. I right now work for an Indian-owned firm, so I endure little of that small talk. But two firms ago, I could talk hockey with the best of ‘em to the point they were like “what kinda black guy is this?”
Keep your chin up. And hit the stalls rather than the urinals. More privacy, even if you still are doing No. 1.
Peace.
I wish there was an effective class on office small talk. I am so terrible at it because, like you, I really don’t care about every single person’s weekend or the game or the weather. I’m already quiet as it is so it’s hard for me to fake interest and not come off awkward.
Wow.. i enjoyed this.. and i might use your prepared officespeak idea. being one of the 2 blacks in the entire organisation, and luckily the other black is in my department…i usually just find safety under my iPod and once I hear a loud giggle i will surface with a ‘what was that’…, but cant be arsed really…the last few weeks were about the Olympics and Team GB’s medals…now back to weather and politics
Oops here I go write a post on your comment section… keep blogging, I enjoy your writing…
I know that’s right! I WISH small talk was not necessary. Let’s stop pretending we care about one another’s personal lives. It’s really a chore.
Funny post! =)
Having worked in Corporate Amerikkka for too long, these conversations can only last for so long and go so far before you become mentally numb to the entire thing….its sad but true….we are often the only fish in a larger goldfish bowl that look, talk, and act the way that we do and really dont have anywhere to run…I have yet to meet a real “brotha” that does not loathe the office B.S grind and Caucasian small talk. But at the end of the day it is a means to an end and your XBOX 360 and Martin reruns are always waiting in the wings…
LOVE IT! This is the one course they don’t teach in college. I have seen many newbies to Corporate America fail because they haven’t mastered this lesson. You, my son, have passed. Congratulations. Now to the next lesson. Tips on surviving lunch and/or the dinner meeting. ARGH! I *hate* these for several reasons but the most important reason is because I am a FOODIE and I LIKES to enjoy my food without talking about WORK or your dayum dog or kids. Help me dear Corduroy Johnson, as to how I can survive the dreaded lunch/dinner whilst savoring my salmon and glass (or bottle depending on the day) of meritage wine.