Diary Of A Disgruntled Cubicle Worker (Yes, I jacked the title from Workzine)

Many many questions will perplex the children when they first enter the corporate world because this office culture is so different from anything they have ever had to go through in their life before this point. School, home, nightclubbing, that cult you were in, nothing compares to the arcane web of norms and taboos and dogmas that govern the social behavior in an office environment.

Let’s take, for example, the issue of coffee.

Coffee is a legal narcotic stimulant that is abused by many in offices, especially by the talented workers who have real things to do in the building. The dumb ones have no brains to stimulate, of course, they just come here to facebook, fart and play Yanni around us making us miserable.


The f**king devil of music

Also, offices are designed to ruin your health, as well as your morals and mind, there is always plenty of coffee supplied to the inmates. After all it is bad for you. It will mess up your heart, blood pressure and teeth.

And because Moloch, the god of offices, hates you and must crush your soul, the coffee that is supplied by the company always sucks.

They only bring in the really cruddy stuff. That coffee that feels like mud in your mouth and tastes like it was filtered through something’s corpse.

If you want to poison yourself better, then you, as an individual, will have to buy your own coffee. Something that may taste better. I don’t mind giving a free advert here, but Good African Coffee. Get that shit. That’s the good shit.

I wish they *had paid me to say this, but I love this stuff

So I have my little packet of Good African that I keep in my drawer to revive me at two after lunch when the ‘itis is upon me and I am so drowsy I am seeing bachwezi.

Good African Coffee is delicious and this means, of course that my workmates will also want some. The smell does it. Good African has a rich aroma that seduces them to me.

Good African Coffee is also kind of expensive. Especially if you don’t work in admin or marketing where everyone is rich. To the rest of us it’s a sacrifice to blow a pound on a new bag of coffee every week.

But if I have to share my stash with seven or eight others who are just drinking it because it tastes good– and they don’t even need it the way I do, they could easily go and buy a Mountain Dew instead, but they are here on my crack– this means that the packet will be empty in no time, and I will have to buy another one when I just burned a hole in my pocket to get this one.

So what options does this leave a gentleman?

The following:

Jam: Tell them you are not going to share your coffee with them. Say, “Go to hell, go to bloody hell and get your own literally damned coffee from there. I hate you! I hate every single one of you! You even make disgusting sounds with the cups when I give you my coffee!”

Hide it: In the broom closet. Not many people will even notice that you vanish into a broom closet every afternoon at two and emerge half an hour later energized and caffeinated, eyes blazing and teeth stained. They won’t notice.

Just surrender and use the office Nguvu: After all, that is what office is about. Surrendering. Giving up the fight. Laying down your dreams and collapsing. Suffering. Pain. Misery. If God had meant for you to be happy at work, He would not have called it work, He would have called it Ice Cream.

Carry your laptop to a café. Eff this office: Yeah. But not Good African Coffee’s café. They play crap  music on the speakers there. Otherwise, bust.



By the way, the title of this post is from a feature that used to be in the Workzine, which you should be reading. It’s here.