I picked up the frame from the windowsill, looked at the picture inside, and sighed. “You had so much potential,” I thought to myself. I stared at the windows the picture had been perched on. They could be seen as somewhat useless since not even a sliver of natural light makes it the 25 feet down the hall from the closest outdoor facing window. The only reason the window can be qualified as “somewhat” useless is because it does allow me to communicate in hand signals with those trying to talk to me while my door is shut and I am on the phone.
What the window lacks in usefulness, it makes up for in personality. One trip around the office told me that. Whether it’s cartoons from a Far Side calendar or pictures of pets, these windows are used as the perfect place to display the wit, warmth and all around good natured-ness of the office occupant. It’s brilliant, really, like a version of social networking for the office environment. I can put out there what I want people to think of me. It doesn’t matter if I’m an incredibly boring homebody, I can make myself anyone I want to be through what I display on the windows.
My first effort at trying to be cool via my window decorating went pretty well. I taped up a picture from a newspaper of David Ortiz as he was being sworn in as a United States citizen. He was focused in the frame, wearing a designer suit with fancy sunglasses and a world series ring, in front of hundreds of other everyday people with blurred out faces. The everyday people were wearing everyday clothes, and definitely no sunglasses. This was perfect. It showed my love for sports, as well as my sense of humor. Anyone walking by my office would know that I was spectacular, just from looking at this picture.
After months of leaving this picture on my window, and having it start many conversations, I started to fret. I was definitely starting to look boring. If I couldn’t find something else that was funny by now, my life was totally stale and bland. People must be walking around talking about how crazy it was that I still had that picture up. I mean, it wasn’t even baseball season any more! It was then that I started looking for something to replace Ortiz, and a few months later, I thought I had it.
After travelling to Washington, D.C. to see my Alma mater win the NCAA College Hockey championship, I returned with one souvenir and it had nothing to do with hockey. While at a mall, I got roped into a tourist trap. I was pulled over to a kiosk surround by a crowd of people. The man running the booth asked me if I would stand in front of a green screen and stick my hand in front of me. Not wanting to seem crazy for objecting, I went along with it. The crowd of people cheered and smiled. Then, they asked me to turn, tilt my head up, and make a kissing face. I peaked out to my friends in the audience and I swear someone gave me a thumbs up, so I did as I was told.
What resulted was one photoshopped image of me shaking Barack Obama’s hand and one of me kissing him, which I could purchase with a frame for what seemed like an un-absurd amount of money. I knew I had to get one, but couldn’t decide which. The shaking hands picture was good, because I might be able to convince people I actually met the president. The kissing picture was a little bit awkward. If people actually believed I met the president and kissed him on the lips, that would be weird. At the same time, though, it was really funny and absurd. I couldn’t imagine anyone would actually think I kissed the president. I bought the kissing picture, with a gold plastic frame that said Washington, D.C. and had monuments etched on the side.
On the trip back to Boston, I realized this was the perfect item to replace Ortiz on my window. It was hilariously over the top and kitchy. It would inspire conversation about how I got the picture and what it would have actually been like if I had met Obama. I returned to the office, moved the Ortiz picture to my bulletin board, and gently placed the frame in the window. It immediately fell off. The first problem with this picture was that it was actually in a frame and needed to be propped up somehow on the uneven, shallow windowsill. After fiddling around with it for a few minutes, I succeeded in the balancing act. I went to sit at my desk and waited.
One person walked by. Then another. And another. I saw one of them look at the picture, cock her head in puzzlement, and continue on by. My heart started to sink. Finally, someone else walked by, stood outside my door for a minute staring at the picture, looked at me and said, “Is that...?” Excitedly, I launched into the conversation about D.C., Obama, and hockey. After what felt like a five minute explosion of conversation from my end she said “Oh, cool,” and left.
Over the next few days, a few more people stopped by to ask me about the picture, and I found it less and less exciting to talk about. “No, I didn’t actually get to meet the president,” I would explain before trying to point out how the picture was funny in spite of that. Other than the handful of people who asked, though, thankfully the masses of people I expected to ask about the picture never turned out. Me and Barack became the big while elephant in the office. “I won’t mention it if you don’t,” I’d secretly plead to anyone who stopped by to chat.
A few months later, while out for drinks with some co-workers, the truth came out. Although I have no idea how the topic came up, I was explaining how the picture was taken at a kiosk in a mall. “Ohhhhhh,” someone said. “That’s Obama? I thought it was your boyfriend. I thought it was weird that you had a picture of you guys kissing on your window.” I was immediately horrified. Here I was, trying to portray myself as fun-loving and quirky, and instead everyone thought I was flaunting a romantic relationship to them!
When I arrived at work the next day, I looked at me and Barack. I didn’t have anything to immediately replace us with, so if I didn’t want us sitting in the window anymore, it would have to empty. At the same time, I still loved that picture. It reminded me of the great time I had on that trip and how hilarious I think I am. I moved the picture to the bookshelf behind my desk and stared at the empty window. It was better to be boring, I decided, than misunderstood.
What the window lacks in usefulness, it makes up for in personality. One trip around the office told me that. Whether it’s cartoons from a Far Side calendar or pictures of pets, these windows are used as the perfect place to display the wit, warmth and all around good natured-ness of the office occupant. It’s brilliant, really, like a version of social networking for the office environment. I can put out there what I want people to think of me. It doesn’t matter if I’m an incredibly boring homebody, I can make myself anyone I want to be through what I display on the windows.
My first effort at trying to be cool via my window decorating went pretty well. I taped up a picture from a newspaper of David Ortiz as he was being sworn in as a United States citizen. He was focused in the frame, wearing a designer suit with fancy sunglasses and a world series ring, in front of hundreds of other everyday people with blurred out faces. The everyday people were wearing everyday clothes, and definitely no sunglasses. This was perfect. It showed my love for sports, as well as my sense of humor. Anyone walking by my office would know that I was spectacular, just from looking at this picture.
After months of leaving this picture on my window, and having it start many conversations, I started to fret. I was definitely starting to look boring. If I couldn’t find something else that was funny by now, my life was totally stale and bland. People must be walking around talking about how crazy it was that I still had that picture up. I mean, it wasn’t even baseball season any more! It was then that I started looking for something to replace Ortiz, and a few months later, I thought I had it.
After travelling to Washington, D.C. to see my Alma mater win the NCAA College Hockey championship, I returned with one souvenir and it had nothing to do with hockey. While at a mall, I got roped into a tourist trap. I was pulled over to a kiosk surround by a crowd of people. The man running the booth asked me if I would stand in front of a green screen and stick my hand in front of me. Not wanting to seem crazy for objecting, I went along with it. The crowd of people cheered and smiled. Then, they asked me to turn, tilt my head up, and make a kissing face. I peaked out to my friends in the audience and I swear someone gave me a thumbs up, so I did as I was told.
What resulted was one photoshopped image of me shaking Barack Obama’s hand and one of me kissing him, which I could purchase with a frame for what seemed like an un-absurd amount of money. I knew I had to get one, but couldn’t decide which. The shaking hands picture was good, because I might be able to convince people I actually met the president. The kissing picture was a little bit awkward. If people actually believed I met the president and kissed him on the lips, that would be weird. At the same time, though, it was really funny and absurd. I couldn’t imagine anyone would actually think I kissed the president. I bought the kissing picture, with a gold plastic frame that said Washington, D.C. and had monuments etched on the side.
On the trip back to Boston, I realized this was the perfect item to replace Ortiz on my window. It was hilariously over the top and kitchy. It would inspire conversation about how I got the picture and what it would have actually been like if I had met Obama. I returned to the office, moved the Ortiz picture to my bulletin board, and gently placed the frame in the window. It immediately fell off. The first problem with this picture was that it was actually in a frame and needed to be propped up somehow on the uneven, shallow windowsill. After fiddling around with it for a few minutes, I succeeded in the balancing act. I went to sit at my desk and waited.
One person walked by. Then another. And another. I saw one of them look at the picture, cock her head in puzzlement, and continue on by. My heart started to sink. Finally, someone else walked by, stood outside my door for a minute staring at the picture, looked at me and said, “Is that...?” Excitedly, I launched into the conversation about D.C., Obama, and hockey. After what felt like a five minute explosion of conversation from my end she said “Oh, cool,” and left.
Over the next few days, a few more people stopped by to ask me about the picture, and I found it less and less exciting to talk about. “No, I didn’t actually get to meet the president,” I would explain before trying to point out how the picture was funny in spite of that. Other than the handful of people who asked, though, thankfully the masses of people I expected to ask about the picture never turned out. Me and Barack became the big while elephant in the office. “I won’t mention it if you don’t,” I’d secretly plead to anyone who stopped by to chat.
A few months later, while out for drinks with some co-workers, the truth came out. Although I have no idea how the topic came up, I was explaining how the picture was taken at a kiosk in a mall. “Ohhhhhh,” someone said. “That’s Obama? I thought it was your boyfriend. I thought it was weird that you had a picture of you guys kissing on your window.” I was immediately horrified. Here I was, trying to portray myself as fun-loving and quirky, and instead everyone thought I was flaunting a romantic relationship to them!
When I arrived at work the next day, I looked at me and Barack. I didn’t have anything to immediately replace us with, so if I didn’t want us sitting in the window anymore, it would have to empty. At the same time, I still loved that picture. It reminded me of the great time I had on that trip and how hilarious I think I am. I moved the picture to the bookshelf behind my desk and stared at the empty window. It was better to be boring, I decided, than misunderstood.
I vote for misunderstood. Anything that lets you put a fake gold plastic frame in a window has to be good.
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