Friday, August 21, 2009

The Little Office of Horrors

I want it clearly understood that I have NEVER brought in a single plant to my office. Not one. Not. One. And yet, over the years, I have inherited a small grove of ficus, spathiphyllum, dracaena, dieffenbachia (which I don’t even like,) spider plants and who knows what other vegetable oddities. All of these drifted into my life as orphans on the brink of death that I rescued from turning into potted sticks. My reward for saving them from stickhood was more people turning their neglected plants over to me. So now I’m taking care of 26 plants there.

This is no high-end horticulture we’re talking about. I water everybody on Friday, occasionally take a pair of scissors to the most rank overgrowth and wish them all a hearty “good luck.” That’s it, that’s all, and yet, they thrive. These are some tough ass plants. I figure if my efforts are insufficient, then they need to take themselves off to houseplant hell.

The biggest drawback is that on Fridays, I’m trapped at the kitchen sink filling up several gallon jugs to go water the troops and natch, that’s when my co-workers come loitering around to chat me up. Am I a bad person for not enjoying these moments of bonhomie? Most of these are people I’ve worked with for the better part of twenty years and if they’ve ever had anything interesting to say, they’ve withheld it from me.

Including the more-than-zaftig Lady who I ran into today as she was microwaving her Lean Cuisine lasagna in the middle of the afternoon. She confided her new diet focused on several small meals throughout the day. I considered asking if a Lean Cuisine constituted a “small meal.” Aren’t they supposed to be sort of, you know, lunch? But then I realized how little insight I have into the Lean Cuisine world and besides, I didn’t want to get into it. I had plants to water.


  1. Oh excuse me.

    I misread the title as “The Little Office of Whores.”

  2. No one would be so desperate as to pay for any of the pussy in my office. They couldn't trade it for food stamps.

  3. You are not a bad person for not enjoying office small-talk. If anything, you should get a Medal of Honor for putting up with it!

  4. "forced camaraderie" is how I refer to my workplace over the years. I have one co-worker who feels compelled to share the fact that her grand-daughter 'started spotting and lost her baby'...

    Jesus. All I wanted was coffee...

    But good on you for saving the greenery.

  5. Like MJ up there, I couldn't keep my sophomoric mind from tittering about "high end" Whoreticulture.

    "I water everybody on Friday, occasionally take a pair of scissors to the most rank overgrowth and wish them all a hearty good luck.”

    Ironically, I think whoreticulture is much the same process.

  6. So. Not. Fair.

    I kill 90% of my plants no matter what I do. Admit talk dirty to them. Ha ha...get it?

    Thank you, folks, I'll be here all week.

    *crickets chirping*

  7. I understand about the plants... I have a soft spot for volunteers in my garden. I think that I anthrmorphisize (sp?) plants. Poor little orphans!

  8. Exactly. I don't even like them, but I can't abandon them to a slow and parching death.


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