Usurping the Slurpy Machine

My cubicle was larger than most, befitting my minor manager position. The cube was on the back wall of the office, next to the door that lead to the factory floor. I could see daylight if I stood and peered over the rows of cubicles and through the glass walls of the important people up front. Across the aisle was an engineer. A most cool guy.  It did not take long to learn we shared a sense of humor -- dry and sarcastic. In a word, we cracked each other up.

I have always been a guy who knows a lot of jokes. tell me one and I will remember two. Dave-the-Engineer knew even more jokes than I did. Most days we started the morning tossing punchlines over the walls. No need to tell the set-up, we both knew the joke. Passers-by would shake their head in wonder, not understanding what was funny.

Later I went through various different responsibilities and my cube location and size changed many times. Once I returned from vacation to find my cube was gone. My stuff had been moved to another location.

Later, I moved up front to a better cube right across the aisle from the glass walls. By that point I was a Corporate employee, plying my trade as a salesman while working from the plant. My cube was next to an old glass office. I was allowed to use the glass office for phone calls.  The Plant Management types understood I discussed stuff the genpop of the office did not need to be privy to. But there was no way in hell they were going to let me have a glass office. It could sit empty, but to them, I was still just the guy who used to sit in the back.  I was not one of them.