Packed in Like a Can of Fuckin' Sardines

Although I don't get any big "B" Benefits with my current job, (e.g. health care, sick days, vacation time, etc.) my status as team leader on the project grants me some small "b" benefits in which I like to indulge. The most critical of these benefits is the authority to organize the seating arrangement of the room. I have shrewdly exploited this power so that I don't have anyone sitting next to me. Having this extra space allows me to strew my assorted papers and sundries about. It also provides the comfortable amount of space to let out a discreet fart when the need arises without offending my colleagues too much. Alas, nothing good lasts forever as today we learned this happy state of affairs is soon to end.

This morning we were told that we have to vacate the second room that I have been using to house 6 of my 20 team members (I privately call this adjacent room the "devil's island" because I exiled all the faces I would rather not see on a day-to-day basis into that room). Now, these lucky 6 team members will be consolidated into my already over-crowded room, a rectangular space of approximately 400 square feet. For those of you counting at home, that's going to be about 20 square feet of space per person for a space that most of spend at least 50 hours a week living in. That's 2/5 square foot of space per hour. Essentially, we will be spending 5/8 of our waking hours in the equivalent of a semi-crowded subway car.

In retrospect, I should have seen this coming as HR and IT people had been scurrying in and out of my room for the past few days on mysterious missions of counting chairs and asking for seating charts. Of course, when D asked me to fill out a seating chart for the room, she did not tell me that the purpose of doing so was related to moving people about. I'm only team leader here and information is strictly on a need-to-know basis with D. I should be happy they told me before just going ahead and moving all the desks around over the weekend.

Whatever the case, it's now clear that we fourteen on the mainland are going to have to share our space with the 6 exiles from Devil's Island. A little about the current set-up of my room: Basically, the room is a large rectangle approximately 15 by 25 feet. Fittingly, a large rectangular table dominates the room and 8 team members sit along this table, including myself. (I probably should have placed myself at the head of the rectangular table but I did not want my back turned to the door as such a placement would allow people entering the room to see what I was looking at on my computer. From experience, I have learned that the most important thing about your office set-up is making sure your computer screen faces in so you can search the Internet in peace without fear of having your superior catch you in the act of viewing porn.) Besides this table, there are a number of small tables that face up against the wall. Six people sit at these desks with only the wall as their scenery for the day. I have nothing against these people (in fact, these six are my least troublesome charges as I guess having them face the wall instinctively makes them more passive and subject to discipline) but these were the only seats available. Anyway, you get the point. We are not exactly swimming in space here.

To add to the fun, they are adding 15 people to the room where the six exiled coders once sat to work on another project that is starting up. So all in all, we are going to have 35 people in a space that has barely managed to fit 20. I won't be in charge of those 15 people but they will be sharing space with me and my team. Good times!

It's my experience that one of the crucial drivers toward madness is population density. People start getting crazy when you don't give them enough space. It's our animal instinct to need space to breath (liebenstraum?) and when we don't have proper space, it puts stress on the body, and adds mental stress to people who are already stressed out. Although I've never experienced truly stressful crowding conditions on a document review, I've heard the stories. Fights breaking out between neighbors, people complaining about body odor, staplers being thrown, etc. Already, most of these people are a couple bad days away from a complete nervous breakdown - overcrowding is yet another stress they have to deal with.

The news was broken to us by LC, who is the firm's maintenance and facilities HR person. She's a callipygian - A word I have always desperately wanted to use in print - woman in her early 40s. As her intelligence appears to hover around that of a macaw, (a fact that has nothing to do with the fact that she is black, only that she chose a career in HR), she's perfectly suited for a role in HR. When she came in today announcing the move, and one of the coders asked where the people would all fit, she pointed to a space where there was clearly a computer and said that's there space "right there." When I pointed out that J sat there, LC responded, "no, there's no one sitting there." Seeing that it was pointless to argue, I simply nodded in agreement at that point. What's the point, really? Some way or another, they are going to find a way to squeeze us all in so that we are nice and close to each other.

My most annoying charge J2 then piped up "does this mean that we can get more money for the inconvenience?" - to which the curt and predictable response was no, you cannot. J2 might as well have asked if she could borrow $100,000 from the firm to go on a meth binge. There are no raises in this world - You take what the bosses give you and if you're lucky, they'll keep on the project just up to the date when they can legally fire you without giving you benefits. If you're unlucky, they'll cut you from the project when the partners decide that they need to cut costs. If you're truly unlucky, they'll call you back to be team leader after they fire you. I kid, I kid.

At this point, I imagine LC wanted to soften the blow to the team so she started going on about she would be happy to do anything for us to make us more comfortable includng adjust the air temperature in the room and get us more fans. More than once, she singled me out and said that I should be letting her know when there are problems in the room. "How can I make it better for you guys when you don't let me know"? For a second, I was tempted to point out to her that I had emailed her at least five times about the temperature in the room being too hot - at times, we had to open the door to keep it to a manageable cool - but that, not once had she ever responded to me, but it would be been futile. I simply smiled and nodded my head in agreement like the good puppy-dog I am. Yes m'am, just let me know how much shit you want us to eat and we'll have our plates and knives ready, yes we will!

Thinking about shit then reminded me that we now have 15 more people added to the 80 or so people who currently inhabit the entire floor. That's about 100 people sharing the two shitters available to us. That's going to be two very crowded and smelly commodes . Already, we basically have to line up behind the stall to take our morning steamers. Now we got 15 more assholes to deal with (literally). Even though it was futile, I asked LC if possibly we could gt access to other floors so that we can take our dumps in relative peace. Someone else asked if we could get a porta-potty for the floor. Yes, we all went to law school for this. (For my thoughts on law firms and act (and joys) of defecation, please see yesterday's post.)

It probably does not need mentioning that the firm does not give a shit about overcrowded bathrooms and anything else we coders have to deal with. Again, it's continuously stressed to us that we should be happy to have the privilege of working for them and should thank them for whatever space they provide us and be on our way. The firm doesn't get any money for giving us space - they make money by taking the time we bill and overcharging; that is, when the firm settles the case and the times comes to take their cut of the settlement amount, they make sure that they get paid $300 an hour for work that they paid us $30 an hour to do. Getting extra space costs money and that decreases firm profits. It's better to crowd us all in like sardines an if one of cracks, goes crazy, and then quits, there's another 10 live bodies ready, willing, and eager to take their spot. Hey, you don't like it, hit the bricks, pal! There's people in India that would probably kill their own grandmothers to get your jobs and someday, in the not too distant future, that's exactly what's going to happen.

As a coda to the story, after the dust had settled and it sank in as a reality that the two rooms would now become one, someone brought up the fact that G would now have to come into our room. (While I had not exiled G to the other room, I had placed him there to watch over the coders in that room). Who was going to sit next to the shingles-infested G?!? As we all pondered that question, I happily thought to myself that the firm had not yet taken away my favorite benefit of all. Personally, I think G belongs on the other side of the table from me, as far as possible from not-yet scabbed over skin.