This is another business on the same floor of the building I work in. Their lobby feels like a parody of a quirky lobby. (Taken with Instagram)
there’s a man who works at the front desk of this office. he likes to play around with his facial hair configuration. it’s perfectly shaped 5’o’clock shadow, it’s a goatee and pointed sideburns, it’s a full beard, it’s clean shaven, it’s a soul patch. sometimes i see him waving around sheets of yellow paper or studying a clip board, but for the most part he squints into one of two monitors.
i still don’t know what they do at this company. i’m pretty sure it’s not advertising, even though we called it “the mad men office” for the first month we were here. whatever they do, it requires yellow sheets of paper. maybe. y’know, i don’t want to know what they do. everyone’s so busy fact-checking their feelings and sucking the wind out of sails by googling everything possible; i want some mystery.
a couple of weeks ago, there was a woman sitting at the front desk. she appeared lost, even though she was obviously filling in for my dude. i missed him. what was he doing to his face? was it just the moustache? the temp kept looking out of the glass doors and smiling at us. it was unsettling.
