Cleaning The Cube

Smoke Jumper dropped by my cubicle this afternoon to inform me of a customer tour that was going to take place in a day or so. I didn’t have much of a reaction, we have tours from high profile customers frequently. Nothing new there. Before Smoke Jumper left he looked over towards Greasy Guy’s half of the cubicle. On his desk there was a mountain of broken PC boards mixed with a spaghetti weave of various cables. Not a single cable was usable. One end was completely cut off or had a fray of loose wires poking out on every single one of ’em. There were mangled sections of aluminum instrument sub-frames, and broken hard drive cylinder heads. Buried deep underneath containers of wasted microcircuits there was a few plastic to-go boxes with half eaten meals still in them. They were weeks old and had turned into thriving mold colonies.

Towering over Greasy Guy’s junk pile like a miniature skyscraper was a pyramid of empty soda cans.

Pointing at that Sanford and Son graveyard of useless crap Smoke Jumper said, “You need to clean that up before the tour comes through here.”

I scowled and almost yelled at him. “Why do I have to clean up his shit? It’s his mess!”

“Greasy Guy is going to be in Malaysia for the rest of the month. Just get rid of it, okay?”

Fuck. I’m always cleaning up after that bastard whether he’s here or not. This sucks. I decided not to screw around with the whole deal. I was going to turn both keys and press the shiny red button. Greasy Guy’s side of the cube needed to be nuked. Cleansed by fire. Walking around the building I located one of the janitor’s rolling dump wagons. They’ve got these big gray colored carts that are about five feet long and a few feet wide. When a nearby janitor wasn’t looking I swiped his cart and rolled it right up to my cubicle’s opening. Scooting past it I started grabbing armloads of Greasy Guy’s junk collection and tossed it into the janitor’s portable trash bin. Everything went and I mean everything. I didn’t care how much Greasy Guy might yell at me when he got back to see his precious broken parts stash missing. Saving the soda can pile for last, I sprinkled them liberally over the top of the garbage wagon and then I hauled it out of the building. Yeah!

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~ by factorypeasant on August 9, 2006.

11 Responses to “Cleaning The Cube”

  1. C’MON Ya know ya miss that walking
    pork belly: greezy, grubby, smelly,
    skirt chasing, jeep rolling, pig
    penning, delegating, time wasting,
    ass hat-ing, crisca the clowning,
    uber dork. šŸ˜€

    bug sue

  2. oh my…

    crisca the clown.

    what a story that was… i never seen the guy that mad since someone spit on his jeep window and blamed me for it.

  3. I remember that massive junkpile.
    It was there and then it was gone.
    I bet he blew it off too after a while. But he made other piles elsewhere including “Penicillin Farms”…..

  4. oh man

    *applause*

  5. nuts…plain nuts.I remember
    a fella ray schieneman lived off of bettencourt near muholland and abernathy.Guy had junk to the begeebees pile mile high.More junk
    the sanford and his son higher then
    bronco stadium at three mile high.What a nightmare.yard was a heap too!One time I went sleuthing in the backyard and looking into his windows the guy had dishes,newspapers,bags of recycables,you name it and it was all there.I even spied a bunch of cats at least 6-8 big ass fat cats that you know pissed up the place.The place was such an eyesore that when the guy left he came home to a nice surprise-the letter from the dept of health and sanitation awaited him at the doorstep thanks to some inside connections by yours truly.Anywho, ray schieneman got a citation and several write ups from the city kook Sam Milloy.after a few weeks mr.schieneman moved out.What a relief that was much like this greasy guy and the feeling when he left-kind of like ARRRR, AWWWWW,Mot(*^FU*&^%,and then YEAH he’s gone!

    Bruce

  6. fp…its “spat” on his window not “spit”.

    fugginwad

  7. well, since i saw who spit on the window with no prompting from my self of course when we were coming back from lunch one afternoon… in this case it’s spit rather than spat.

    sass- ty

  8. fp – learn your past or present
    tense!

    wad – good catch as always!

    btw – twas i who spat on crisca’s
    window. bwuahahaha

    rev. jim jones

  9. dear biskits’ plaything,

    there is no such thing as past or present tense. the future tense is now. deal.

    thanx to your spit attack i had to have a chat with the bossman and then verbally beat down Greasy Guy since he thought i was the culprit. nice job br0. btw it was funnay as hell. i ain’t mad or nuthin…

    don’t forget 363.50Mhz. that will be coming up shortly courtesy of Shoelaces because he is a bad man.

    I HATE SWANS.
    http://vaderannoyed.ytmnd.com/

  10. Seems like every office has a scummy asshole who never cleans up his shit. I like your finishing touch of sprinkling left over soda on the mountain of junk. Next time, sprinkle it all over his chair–it’ll probably just blend into the fabric.

  11. thx JVR. i think someone brought in some fish oil and dumped it into the fabric of Greasy Guy’s office chair once but i can’t remember for sure. that’s a good one to do because their chair and the seat of their pants start to reek like rancid tuna. makes them real popular around the building.

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