Buried Treasure

Now I am somebody's secretary for two and a half weeks. Today I was reunited with my old friend, the Staple Remover. Then I got acquainted with an industrial-sized Shredding Machine, desiccating some Important Documents. The machine was covered in hilarious warning labels – apparently it is a bad idea to dangle your necktie and/or Rapunzel locks over these fearsome jaws of death. In this office the desks are sandwiched together, so it's easy to spot who is reading a novel, who is on the phone to his wife, and who has his index finger wedged firmly up his nostril yet again. Are you looking for buried treasure? Must you dig so vigorously? I took my lunch outside and found a nice spot under a tree, where a strange fluffy bird peered down at my salad. His monotonous chirp sounded precisely like the shooting noise in Space Invaders. Which was music to my ears, so long as he agreed not to drop a bomb on my head. The sky was heavy and glowering, the wind slightly bitey. I must be getting used to this climate, because I found myself thinking, "Mmm, sure is warm today!". Back in Australia, you'd have said it was miserable, perfect for chucking a sickie and curling up on the couch with Oprah and a jar of Nutella.

About Shauna Reid

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11 thoughts on “Buried Treasure

  1. The office where I worked in Toronto had this centralized shredding system. The shredder boxes would not be shredders, they would be just really large bins that almost looked like mailboxes. One would throw those sensitive documents in there and then by the end of the week a huge truck would arrive and shred that stuff so well, it could probably be directly turned into restaurant napkins.
    The boxes obviously had no warnings but I imagined what it would be like if any part of me got stuck in that thing and if I had to stand there for a week, just waiting for the truck to arrive. Other office workers would of course ignore me. I would maybe try to tear myself away. Maybe at night, I would try to drag the whole “for shredding” bin to a private location, where I would look for a butter knife to cut myself free. Would I get on the news if I did? And let’s say I just stayed there and waited for the truck of no mercy. Would the driver recognize me as a human being attached to his paper execution bin? Or would he just drag the screaming and kicking me into the back of his truck to turn me into pulp.
    Those were the days.
    Office life has its perks. I am an avid collector of thumb tacks. My presentation wall (yes, I have one in my office) currently displays 44 silver tacks, 12 red ones, 5 yellows, 4 whites, 17 clear ones. I also have one extremely rare blue tack. One green one is also up there, but I guess there could be more in my “doubles-cup”.
    Guess you all wanted to really know that… ; )

  2. At my old work, the boss caught one of the office girls using the guilloitine paper-chopper thingy to trim her hair. She’d lay it down flat on the chopping board, line it up, grab the handle and ‘SHUNK’.

    Boss wasn’t impressed…I thought it was quite a good effort, personally!

  3. There is a certain fascination with watching things get shredded, especially if it’s bigger than any other shredders you’ve ever seen. At times you just want to go get the printer paper and see how thick of a stack the Machine can handle at once. Then when it makes the wierd whirring noise sans the shredding of the paper, you just pull the paper out, throw it in the trash bin under it…I just said bin…and walk away and let the next shnook wonder why the shredder isn’t working right, hehe.

  4. I like playing shredder games.

    How many pages can it take before jamming?

    I always get nervous un-jamming it though, I turn it off everywhere I can find before putting my own hand into its ravenous innards …

    Still, destroying sensitive documents does spice up the day. You can pretend you’re a spy, or an Evil Lawyer, litigation proofing a firm.

  5. Similar to Witold, my office has these “mailboxes” for the “shredding people” to come and shred paper each week. These dudes in a van with a giant shredder …. I wish I could shred my own documents, they make perfect packing material.

  6. God i’m sick of all you Aussies who come over here take our jobs then whinge on all the time about “Back in Australia. …” Piss off back there.

  7. oh bugger off! there was no complaining in this entry. did you bother to read it? i like this job, and commenting on the difference in weather is not whinging.

    (in fact it’s great to have a summer in which i don’t get burnt all the time! hehe.)

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