He's at The Office.
Christmas puked on him. And all over The Office.
It is a little bit my fault. Kinda. Sorta. I just wanted to hide the beige monster. Who knew it would turn The Office into some seasonal guide on how not to decorate?
First, the back story.
I used to sit in a shitty cubicle on the main hall. I am now around the corner in an equally shitty mind numbing, spirit crushing cube...
... with a view (and a kettle)...
Above one portion of all the cubes on The Farm is a "cubbie" (which is code for a place to put your shit so we don't have to look at it.). Behold the
There is just no way to hide it. Unless you wrap it. Which is exactly what I did my first Christmas with The Company.
Nobody told me that El Presidente was Mr. Christmas Decorator Extraordinaire. I had no idea what kind of dragon I had poked. I did not know there were motorized train sets and motion sensitive decorations in his office. Nobody, NOBODY gave me the damn memo.
Now each department has a $200.00 budget. It used to be $350.00 but we are in a recession people! We cannot get new cubes on The Cube Farm, but we have a Christmas decorating budget. Le sigh.
And a contest. Did I happen to mention the contest?
Oh la! the contest for the sacred wooden Christmas tree. It is fierce.
What started as a bit of fun and mocking between me and El Presidente resulted in Whoville last year. Yes, complete with bent Christmas tree and a ten foot inflatable Grinch. No, seriously....
Corporate (the Cube Farmers and I) have won the contest for all four years running. Beat that bitches! And yes it was four, we've only had the sacred wooden Christmas tree for three. Suck it losers!
While I would like to say that we are just really creative and love Christmas, the reality is this... it is all about prevention. You see, we have a co-worker who is an Office Dweller, Possessor Of A Door That Closes And Walls That Go To The Ceiling (noooooo I'm not even a little bit jealous, noooooo) and she has and entire skid of decorations.
Yes, a SKID. Four feet long, four feet deep, about five feet high. You do the math. Uh huh.
All of our creativity is an effort to keep Christmas from puking out of her office into the rest of the corporate offices and The Cube Farm. It would be okay but the reality is her stuff is dusty, dated, cheap, and smells like old lady crotch. No, really. It is some nasty ass funk.
After creating the majesty that was Whoville last year, we are spent, burnt out and this Cube Farmer some of us do not give a shit what the theme is this year as long as it is not "Christmas Puked."
My fellow Buddhist and Cube Farmer neighbour and I suggested an atheist Christmas. Or clearing the place out and just having a Charlie Brown Christmas tree. Or having a Very Muslim Christmas with each cube representing an oil rich nation and the manger going in the country that has more desert than oil.
Those drama queens do not have a sense of humour. Or irony. Or social commentary. Or congruence and polarization.
The suggestion of a Very Muslim Christmas went over like a lead balloon even though we were just trying to be all inclusive and give a proper shout out to our Muslim brethren. Dead air. Crickets. No love for that idea. None. I had my hopes set high. I wanted to be Libya so I could get my Gaddafi on. I got the crazy down to a science.
For what it is worth, no matter how far into the depths of hell you cast me, and even though I do not believe in 99% of Christian dogma, I know Baby Jesus was not down with racism. Surely MC JC (Messiah Cometh, Jesus Christ... use it, don't abuse it) would have delighted in an ironic juxtaposition of multicultural celebration and consumerism. No? Well, I do think the Bible is Christian mythology and the whole idea of immaculate conception is a steaming pile of doo-doo, so what do I know?
Sadly, Santa will not be visiting an oil rich Islamic state this year when he comes to The Cube Farm. Turns out drama queens do not like religious based controversy. Oh, they will fuck their co-workers in their spare time at work or after work, but they Just. Say. No. to intelligent, thought provoking controversy. Fraidy cats.
Next year, my fellow Buddhist and Cube Farmer neighbour and I are bringing in a huge Buddha with a gigantic Santa hat on his head. With lights that are synced to chants. And a candy cane bodhi tree. And popcorn string malas. Our side of The Cube Farm is going to be a Very Buddhist Christmas.
So what will Santa be visiting you ask? Well it is supposed to look like a giant candy cane (it so does not) but it is really a game of Where's Waldo? (it so is). I know, totally has everything to do with the spirit of Christmas. Imagine it, the three wise men roll up to the manger... gold, frankincense, myrrh, and a Where's Waldo? book. It could have totally happened. Just on papyrus and in Aramaic.
There will be pictures tomorrow as they were still "striping" the place when I left today. To be honest, we are just one dry heave away from Christmas puking. Seriously.
In the mean time, I will be plotting where to hide Waldo the next time I find him.
Hey, I gotta get my kicks from somewhere. You saw where I sit all day.
