The Orifice

I am not a terribly conventional creature. My actions and reactions are pretty much my actions and reactions, without considering the social or political consequences of such actions. Luckily, I've been able to get away with this for the most part, as people pretty much seem to find me funny and likable. They do throw in the occasional "get away from me you f*cking weirdo," but I feel I am, on balance, favorably received. Your mileage may (and probably does) vary.

In my prior life as an office monkey, I noticed that there are certain decorums that are followed. For instance, if one were hung over, one would call in with "food poisoning" and the other office members are not allowed to openly question the truth of that statement. If you enter the office of another person, and that person has just farted, you are supposed to just stand there and continue the conversation, and pretend you don't smell the fart. Which reminds me, I should take this opportunity to apologize to those poor bastards who have had and future bastards who will have the misfortune of having to follow that rule on my protein powder and banana days. Same rule applies when someone stinks up the bathroom. If you see that someone is using the stall you're supposed to finish your business as quickly as possible and get the hell out of there, to save that person the embarrassment of having to emerge from the stall and face someone after having just taken the Browns to the Super Bowl. However, sometimes you may be entering the bathroom just as the pooper is washing his or her hands. In that case, you know they stunk up the room, and they know they stunk up the room, but you're not allowed to say anything like "Whew! Mexican food last night, eh?" All you can do is not acknowledge it. And figure out that person's pooping schedule so you don't walk in there at the wrong time again.

I was once faced with a uniquely awkward situation at the office. Specifically, I went in to ask a question of my Superior. Superior is a bit more chronologically advanced than I - let's say late sixties (age, not date of birth). In any event, I strolled in to ask how a certain matter was going. Superior's computer is set up such that Superior would be using the computer while facing away from the door; in other words, people standing in the doorway to this office can clearly see the computer screen. I often set up my office this way, with the intention that I will be discouraged from checking my fantasy baseball team at work if I am concerned about getting busted for doing so. In reality, it just meant that I pressed Alt-Tab whenever I heard footsteps in the hall. Probably the worst possible solution, as it made me both paranoid and counter-productive. And so did the black helicopters hovering outside my office window at night.

In any event, I think you can see where this is going - I couldn't have telegraphed it any more if I were using Morse Code, or if I were a Jeff Tedford-coached quarterback trying to throw a pass in the NFL. When I walked in, Superior had porn on his computer screen.

There it was, basically a full-screen picture of an attractive and buxom young woman, on her knees and performing fellatio on a (mostly) off-screen gentleman. I use the term gentleman because everyone knows porn acting attracts only persons of the highest moral character and integrity. As does porn viewing, and blogging about finding porn on other people's work computers. I guess, in theory, I could have gone to HR with some sort of "hostile work environment" complaint. However, I feel like our society is entirely too sensitive and litigious already, and besides, this was my kind of porn. Now, Superior doesn't strike me as a "porn on the work computer"-type. I strike me as that type, so I know what I'm talking about here.

Superior used e-mail and Word and other basic applications, but I also had to help with certain computer issues (such as "making it make sound") when the IT people weren't available, so I know Superior isn't all that tech savvy. Superior may not even know about Alt-Tab to change to a more work-acceptable application, because Superior sure as sh!t didn't do that. The porn just sat there on the computer screen. Based on what I saw, Superior had clicked on the wrong web site or e-mail attachment some time before - likely some program installed itself on Superior's computer and hijacked it, generating porn pop-ups, and possibly of the type that couldn't be Alt-Tabbed out of.

I feel like I had a good relationship with Superior, and I knew I wouldn't be working there much longer. I mean, Superior gave me crap for my date's inappropriately short dress at our Holiday Party. So one of us could have acknowledged the porn on the computer. But office decorum held. I didn't say "Whoah! Look at the sweater puppies on that hose hound!" or "Looks like you could use an extra hand," or even "Oops" followed by an awkward departure. Any of these reactions would have let Superior know that I knew.

Rather, I strolled to the other side of Superior's office and continued my line of questioning while pretending to be interested in a picture of Superior with some pseudo-celebrity on the bookcase, a picture I had seen and been told the story behind several times before. And to Superior's credit, there was no panic. Superior's voice stayed level as my questions were answered, and I left after 30 seconds or so - just long enough to make it look like I wasn't trying to get out of there. I did turn to leave in such a way that I never faced the computer screen again, though.

To this day I don't know if the porn still resides on Superior's computer. In some respects I feel like I should have said something, because I feel like I might have been the best hope at getting it removed. Can you really contact IT to have them uninstall porn from your computer? I mean, I guess you can, but does anyone actually do that? And its not like you could just accidentally lose the computer, or arrange for it to be stolen - the computers were imaged and this just would have resulted in the porn popup program being restored along with the rest of the system. So maybe its still there. Hell, maybe its supposed to still be there, and Superior is just at the career point of not giving a crap anymore - keeping the Swingline stapler, finishing the coffee and surfing porn sites on the computer. Lucky bastard.