Category Archives: Employment

Why Do the Elevators Hate Me?

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I will totally end you, because that’s the kind of elevator I am.

I scan my ID, and the turnstiles part. The screen flashes a number that corresponds to an elevator waiting to whisk me up into the sky. I walk steadily down an open, high-ceilinged corridor, gaze forward, yo-yoing my badge on a snapback string. A maintenance guy vacuums a patch of carpet. Twenty-somethings speed walk past balancing Starbucks cups and iPhones. I turn right at the last bank and make my way to the assigned elevator. As I arrive, the doors shut in my face.

Welcome to another day of work, kind sir.

Why do the elevators hate me? Why do they taunt me? Why do they toy with me so? Maybe if the elevators just got to know me, they’d welcome me into their upward-bound metal box without the daily slight and deliver me to my cubicle on a mid-level floor.

After all, I’m a decent person and a productive employee. I’m good at my job, over-qualified even. I show up on time and do quality work. I smile. I make small talk about the weather. I clean up after myself in the kitchen. I don’t complain when my raise falls short of inflation.

To be fair, I like my job and the people I spend my days with. The work can be interesting. The company is a good place as far money-making entities go. And while my day-to-day could be better — no job is perfect — it could also be a whole lot worse.

I’ve spent a lot of time unemployed… probably about three years when you add it all up. That’s way too much time sitting in coffee shops or at kitchen tables sending resumes into the ether. And none of it’s been by choice. I’ve been laid off six times in my career. A couple of those layoffs were from jobs I was happy to leave. Crazy bosses and soul-sucking commutes get old quickly. But the other four jobs seemed to offer opportunity for advancement, or at least I was willing to stick around until that opportunity showed up.

But then the elevator doors shut in my face.

I rose to manager level early on and have been stuck there for well over 20 years. My career has been a series of lateral moves spurred by layoffs and mounting bills. Smart, successful friends of mine have implored me to seek out opportunities when I have a job, operate from a position of strength. They’re right, of course. It’s just never panned out for me. Or life gets in the way. Usually a job search is back-burnered when I have a job and other more pressing issues. Those kids aren’t going to raise themselves.

At what point can I stop trying to keep up — never mind get ahead — and just enjoy where I am? The answer seems to be never. I’ve long since given up on those college notions of a giant paycheck and a corner office. I’m content to read about those people in the alumnae quarterlies. I’d rather just work and live.

I’ve stopped checking for the number of my assigned elevator when I scan in. What’s the point?

In Defense of Lunch

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Lunch_043013I eat the same thing for lunch every day — vegetables, hummus and pita bread. No, I’m not a vegan health nut. No, I’m not a rabbit. No, I’m not a vegan health nut rabbit. I’m a guy who sits at a desk all day and needs to eat.

My coworkers find it a little odd. They find it funny. They find it amazing that my steady diet of vegan rabbit food doesn’t drive me to afternoon microwave popcorn and pod coffee binges. That’s okay, I enjoy the ridicule. My behavior is odd and funny and amazing, at least within the mundanity of office life. It also makes perfect sense. So let’s unpack my lunch.

Lunch in midtown Manhattan isn’t cheap. Oceana, one block over, serves a tasty Salad of Grilled Louisiana Shrimp with mango, young coconut (none of that geriatric, senior citizen coconut), yogurt dressing and cashews for $27. The Capital Grille features a Wagyu Beef Carpaccio, dished up chilled with wasabi arugula, for a price that magically appears on the check moments before you lay down that American Express Black card. What can I say? Bankers like seafood and steak, and investing taxpayer money to make billions, which then gets funneled back into bonuses and expense accounts and spent on pricey lunches.

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Bathrooms, Technology and the Common Man

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restroom stallsTechnology is a beautiful thing. It lets us wander the beautiful streets of Manhattan, amidst her majestic skyscrapers, expensive stores and bustling throngs, completely focused on a screen the size of my hand. What better way to connect with the world than to disconnect from it? In all fairness, technology also lets me have a job in one of those tall buildings, creating content for people looking at those tiny devices. I’m grateful for that. Though lately I’ve been feeling a little vulnerable.

Technology also seeps into the private corners of our lives. Take a look in consider the bathrooms in my office. The sinks turn on by themselves, activated by motion sensors that detect hands underneath a faucet. The toilets flush when you step away. They’re even beta-testing a robot that will relieve itself for you, so you can continue working.

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Sidetracked on my way to the middle

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So… come here often?

The elevator in my office building doesn’t work sometimes. I don’t mean that in the plunging-40-stories-to-a-fiery-death-to-be-covered-in-gruesome-yet-inaccurate-detail-on-CNN-for-the-next-two-weeks sense; after all, I am writing from this side of the grave. It just has a weird glitch. When the elevator stops on, say, 42, on its way to one of the higher floors, it will forget your floor and head back down.

This happened to me the other day on my way to work. I wasn’t paying any attention to the floor numbers counting up or the digital message scrolling by, welcoming me to the building with the personal warmth that only LCD can offer. The elevator stopped; the other person on it got off. The doors closed, and the elevator continued on. When the doors opened again, I got off too.

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