Love knows no partition

Joe is only four feet away from me, separated by a thin partition, so I hear everything


Love knows no partition
by Mazloom

Who would have thought? Marylou is in love! The queen of mean, the whistleblower of the year, the spy who hates me, she is in love. The woman, that people would re-route their path in the maze of the office cubicle isles just to avoid crossing her path, is in love. How do I know? Her teeth are whiter, her eyes are brighter, her cheeks are blusher, her lips are more vermilion, and her sagging breasts are perkier. Last week I figured out why there was so much change in her. She was talking to Joe, and I recognized her giggle over the partitions that separate my cubicle from the people who residing on the next isle. No one has ever heard her giggle before as long as anyone can remember. But, the giggle was unmistakably hers, a mimic of her voice, which sounds like a tree slamming into a house on a stormy night.

My immediate neighbor on the other side is an oriental guy who slurps his fish soup, especially when he has it for breakfast. The guy to my right on the other side is the one who is always missing, and has earned the nickname of Absent Imam. Joe sits on the other side to my left. He is the one who is always sick. He is constantly on the phone talking to car insurance accident claim agents. After he is finished with the agents, he gets on the phone with his medical provider and yaks about his medical bills almost every day. Then he is making doctor and physical therapy appointments, and afterward he is on the phone talking to his ex-wife. Maybe one day I’ll give you all the details about his divorce. It’s not a secret around here. Everyone within fifteen feet of his cube knows about it, except Absent Imam since he is hardly present.

Joe is only four feet away from me, separated by a thin partition, so I hear everything. We don’t see each other but that doesn’t mean his whiney voice would not carry over the wall. His ex-wife is a nagger, just like Joe. Two naggers cannot make it together for too long. He talks about his medical problems, she talks about hers and that’s enough to make anyone around him crazy. Marylou on the other hand is a strong domineering bitch, and that makes their union a match made in heaven. If he ever nags in her presence I’m sure she’ll chew him up.

When lab rats are released in experimental mazes sooner or later they find their way to the cheese, and Marylou has found herself the stinkiest cheese there is in the office. Today I saw them in the hallway by the bathroom. She was leaning against the wall, one foot firmly set on the ground, her other foot crossed and erect on her toes. Her hands in her white pants, but only four fingers of each hand, with her thumbs sticking out. Just like a teenager. She was looking directly into his eyes, and didn’t even notice that I was in a hurry to make it to the bathroom.

When I came back the other way I noticed he was leaning on the wall too, almost like mirror images of each other, with him looking directly into her eyes too. He has completely lost his brain. There is no more hope for him. All the telling is in the eyes. They were so into leaning against the partition that I thought soon it will tilt over. He is tall, taller than the partitions. She is tall also, but shorter than him. If they had not passed the age of menopause, I’d say they would soon be having tall children who’d love to lean on walls.

Comes to tell you, love knows no boundary, or partition. 


Recently by MazloomCommentsDate
خون دادن
Aug 06, 2008
Killing Harriet
Jul 15, 2008
Green liberation
Jun 25, 2008
more from Mazloom


by Omid not logged in (not verified) on

I anonymously thank you for your complement.
The slurping guy is driving me insane. Hopefully this Monday or sometimes next week I'll move to another cubicle, where I'll be in almost total isolation, which might also drive me insane. It's a rat's life out here. I feel like I am Papillon going from one cell to another.

Where I sit now, clockwise I am surrounded by slurpy Joe, Absent Imam, the Bullet (she is fast to come and go and has a smart-alecky reply for any inquiry), the Eggplant from Thailand, the Queen from from Afghanistan, the Prophet Mohammad from Iran, the Absent Imam Successor from Esfahan, and the Ill Man Joe. Next week, either I'll miss them all and go into depression, or I'll be the happiest man in the office. We’ll see.

Thank you so muck for your comment.


nice article...refreshing

by Anonymously (not verified) on

nice article...refreshing writing style. loved the oriental guy who slurps soup for breakfast. we all have cubefarm stories... the best solution is to make it out of there and into other farms...but don't expect the intelligence or the conversations to change much. it doesn't!