Who’s THAT guy?

I work in a cube. Someone I met once called them work pods. It sounds so futuristic, “work pod”, almost cozy and warm. Can’t you just see the girl down the hall, who looks like a Who cooing, “I’m going back to my work pod right now… where it’s all soft and cuddly…and there’s warm coco in there”.

Well I can’t. Any girl who looks like Cindy Who is down right chilling to me. Our cubes should really be called work bins. Metallic and gray, but in the end better than the open air design. Privacy please! Of course we all know, there is relative privacy in our little boxes. We all know the intimate details of the people around us. The hushed fights they have with their families and friends. The gossip mill is in full tilt.

However when someone new comes into my work, we don’t have a formal introduction custom. They just appear and start going into their little pod everyday. A couple days later, some hideous pictures of relatives arrive to adorn their little space. Or worse, they put out pictures of their adolescent children, which are lured at my middle-aged office perverts.

Last week a new guy arrived. I saw him on his first day. He looks pretty normal. Short, fat, older, but you don’t want to get too close because it looks like he might have bad breath. You know the type. The first day, I wasn’t introduced to him. In the back of my mind, I told myself that I would introduce myself to him the next day. But then my procrastinator nature took hold of me. He only sits 3 or 5 bins down. How hard would it be? I just didn’t feel like putting on the smile and being nice. I was having (am having) a horrendous week. Why do I have to be the greeting committee for this guy?

Now time is against me. He’s been here two weeks. I barely smile at him, because I am embarrassed that I haven’t introduced myself. Worse yet, I realize I must look like a bitch that doesn’t think he is worthy of my time. When we pass in the hall I flash a small smile. I know they look like evil petty smirks from a young coworker. My laughs in the office next to him come across like cackles.

My avoidance of him grows daily, because of my shame of not introducing myself immediately. What am I going to go now? I panic. He’s walking toward me – move girlie move, take a right, a right, oh damn I’m dyslexic and I went the wrong way. Now we are walking down the hall together, walk faster, walk faster. Next thing I know I appear to be a speed walker, the kind who wear fanny packs and moves their ass in a contorted way. Great! Now he really thinks I’m a freak.

Guess I’ll keep avoiding him. How long can this go on? If you have advice, let me know. And no – I am not an introvert. Thing is, if you knew me, you’d know that I’m one of the most social people out there.

Comments appreciated!