Just Another Day in Tech

8:45.

Dammit, I’m late.

Again.

Ever since the return to office mandate, I’ve had the hardest time getting my ass to the office at what my new manager thinks is a reasonable time.

Why? I have no idea.

Working from home, I was logged on and working by 8:00 damn near every day. Now? If I’m there before 10:00 it’s a win.

Nearly took a header down the stairs at the station.

Again.

You’d think whoever designed these damn places would take into consideration how little coffee folks have had first thing in the morning and made the appropriate adjustments to the rise and run of the stairs.

You know, for safety.

Also launched my headphones across the platform—now they’re covered in…EW.

Grabbed ‘em just as the train doors started to slide closed and took a running leap for it. Nearly brained myself on the door, then nearly got my backpack caught as they slid closed just behind me. Taking a moment to recompose myself, I looked around for a seat. Nonchalant-like.

There’s one. I love using this station as it’s easier to get an actual seat and not have to stand all the way from Roosevelt into downtown.

Ahh, settling in, I get my headphones cleaned up—wet wipes for the win—and get my “preparing for a day of fluorescent-lit torture at the hands of an office full of techies who haven’t been exposed to other humans in 3 years and don’t know how to take a hint” playlist queued up.

It’s fun being the sole marketing writer in an office full of tech bros. What? You don’t believe me?

Just as the tunes begin washing over me and I close my eyes to do some breathing…SLAM! Someone trips over my left foot and lands in my lap.

“Oh, for fucks’ sake!” I half-mutter half-scream as I rip off my headphones back to address this until-now-unseen oaf.

“Shit! Fuck! Ow! Sorry!” I heard in response as the dude started untangling himself from both sets of backpack straps. (How did he land IN my pack?!)

Extricated and looking chagrined, he finally turns around to face me.

“Marco?!” I yelled incredulously. “What the hell, man!”

“Alex, I am SO. SORRY. I looked down for one second to restart this podcast so I could catch the intro, and BOOM! I’m in your lap.”

“Argh!” I sigh. “It’s alright, man. Sit down, I’ve had a morning, too.” I said, waving at the open seat next to me. The one he probably could have landed comfortably in if he’d just been looking up as he entered the car a moment ago.

“How are you finding things since the RTO proclamation came down from on high?” I ask, trying to turn this intensely awkward moment into something more mundane.

“I mean…I don’t love it.” Marco replies. “It takes me a while to settle into when my routines are upended like that. I mean, I didn’t get my home workstation dialed in for like 6 months when all this began.”

“Right?! Oh my god, it took me ages to get into a groove and start being able to turn out good articles again. But once I did, man was it awesome!” I started to remember something—that I actually like Marco. “Having a 30-second commute and my dog for a cubicle mate. Not to mention being able to keep the lights dim and being surrounded by my books. It was writerly bliss, I swear.”

“Oh, coderly bliss, too! Not having a teammate sneak up behind you when you’re on a run and insist on talking to you. NOW. And just not taking the hint that when you have headphones on and your head down, you’re neck deep in code and maybe fuck off for a while, right?!”

“And here I was thinking that was just a marketing thing. It’s better when it’s someone from a team you didn’t even know exists, with a question about something not even remotely work-related. Like asking for an edit on their personal blog post. About their cats. Or checking up on a request they thought they made last week but somehow never actually got submitted. Or my personal favorite, mistaking me for IT and asking me to look at their malfunctioning hardware. I don’t want to see that.”

I might have been a little riled up by the end of that rant.

“Seriously?! Folks do that? Why? Just because your title is ‘writer?’” Marco was sounding downright incredulous himself now.

“Yeah, basically. I may have had a Slack channel back in the before times where we discussed all things grammar. It was mostly folks posting snippets from around the web and me ripping the writers a new one in pedantic splendor. And in the other’s defense, I used to be IT…but never at this company, so there’s no way for them to know that. I must just ooze IT-guy vibes still. I’ll have to have someone look at that.”

“Nice!” Chortled Marco. “Hey, this is our stop!”

“Amazing how much faster a boring train ride can be when you have a real person to chat with.”

“I know, right?!” He answered as we collected our bags and disembarked for the office.

Our company moved to fancy new digs during lockdown (don’t ask, I don’t know why either), and they’re right on the edge of the center of all things techy in Seattle, South Lake Union. Which is actually better than being more central for us transit riders, as it puts it closer to the light rail station at Westlake.

After continuing our lovely chat, Marco and I entered the office and both noticed a somber vibe immediately.

“Whoa,” I said. “What’s going on?” That was directed at another coworker who was moving fast toward the front door and who seemed to be upset.

“Check your email.” Was all she said.

“Wait, what?!” Marco called after her, but she was gone.

I looked around and called out to another marketing person I saw down the hall. “Georgia, what’s going on!?”

“Layoffs.”