How the heck

Am I supposed to risk everything on a four year degree when the boss of the department just got let go?

Is that what college guarantees? A bigger lie? A bigger dream?

Scary.

I cannot enter your office without an official escort.
I cannot look you directly in the eye as we ride the elevator together.
I dare not sit at the same table as you in the cafeteria on the 20th floor.
I feel really tense when we pass each other in the hall. You sorta, scrunge up against the wall so I don't brush the fabric of your shirt that probably costs more than the rent I pay.
You would rather talk about me, than to me.

Is this who I will become when I get an office with my name on it?

Survival of the fittest

I find there are four types of co-workers.

1 - The smoocher. The ones who always try to get ahead with the boss by seeming smarter, look more interested in the briefing, and bolster their vocabulary with haughty words just to hide their (at best) averageness and normalcy.

2 - The complainers. They never have a good day, and neither should you. I work next to one of these. Mail run time, and he is griping about the secretary who didn't want to give him eye contact, or the package that is a millimeter too big for his hands to carry. Not to mention if he notices any outright social injustices in the office...he is the first one speaking on it, but the last one taking a stand against it. Ironic, to say the least

3 - The ones that never do any work, but EVERYONE likes. Usually these co-workers are highly flirtatious, jovial, and just all around...nice. Well, they probably aren't nice...but they will make YOU feel like you are extra special...or just plain good. I have yet to see one of these get tossed out.

4 - The quiet killers. These I try to emulate, and to watch out for as well, while they sit their quietly pushing their carts, stocking the shelves, moving the boxes. You know, just by spending time with them, that they actually have a LIFE that is put on pause when they punch in, and resumes when they punch out.

Which one are you?

Dispelling the Myth

It is now my educated opinion that there is no such thing as a perfect boss-co-worker combination. Either you have co-workers who are looking to knife you in the bathroom stall, or you have a boss who is so overtly "goal-oriented", "managerial focused" or basically too messed up in their own personal lives to make a good judgment between chocolate and vanilla, to make your day nothing but eventful and exciting.

Let me explain. The Mary Tyler Moore Show, for those of you who are cultured or old enough to appreciate that show, was produced and written and directed by liars. There is no such thing as a boss that cares about your problems and will listen while your pour your heart out in the need to find peace and solace. You most likely won't be able to have pure, unadulterated friendships with co-workers of the opposite gender without someone feeling weird, pulling away, or talking about you over the coffee machine. Personal problems will never find a home in the workplace. And your clothes will never stay neatly pressed.

Again, a perfect workplace does not exist. Let's get that firmly implanted into your mind. How you handle that truth, is where the real issue lies. You can either a) open up your own business and become the boss that others fear, cajole, coddle, and run from or b) you can continuing trudging along in the daily routine of pursuing the almighty dollar prior to it being forked over to your creditors.

How do I know this?

I, Fabian Basilio, am an office grunt. I get your coffee, I un-jam your copiers, I smile at you while pushing a mail cart at sub-mach speeds just to get to an end of a day that will ultimately lead to another, I laugh with the freight elevator guys, I play handball with the interns. As such, I get to be part of the underground corporate culture. Sure, you see everyone on the train in the morning with suits and ties, but look for the guys and gals who look pensive, but not dressed up. Maybe polos and khakis, real unisex, real bland, but dressed to kill in the corporate world as office grunts.

For in that crowd that spews forth from the bowels of the earth at a quarter to nine at every train stop in Manhattan, there is a chance that I am in one of them, free newspaper in hand, with a blank expression on my face....still standing at the fork in the road of decision, weighing the options of both endeavours.