Its a tradition at the company I work for to decorate offices on milestone birthdays. 30, 40, 50, 60 etc. Some of the better ones (and I know these are hard to believe, but trust me, they're all real):
When the CFO turned 40, we filled his office with packaging air bags. If you've ever bought something from Amazon, you know the bags -- those clear plastic bags that cushion your purchase. We procured a machine that produces those bags, and proceeded to fill the office with hundreds of bags. So many, in fact, that it was impossible to navigate through the office on foot when we finished. We also wrapped everything we could in newsprint -- every framed picture on his walls, his computer monitor, his keyboard, even individual pens and pencils. It was like Christmas in there, if air bags were snow and things he already owned were gifts.
Another time, someone in HR turned 50 and we took the Rolling Stones advice and Paint(ed) it Black. Using disposable plastic black tablecloths, we covered his walls to make them appear to have black wallpaper on them. Ditto for his desk. Add in dozens of black balloons, confetti and streamers that had various "Old Man" insults on them, and you get the picture. The office blow-up doll, Bob, also made an appearance in this scene -- wearing an "Over the Hill" T-shirt.
Still another time, we roped off an office with Police Line tape (don't ask how we got ahold of that) and decorated the office of a gentleman who turned 50. The decorations were these awesome fake road signs that I wrote and printed up with the help of a local printer. The signs all were derivatives of actual road signs; my personal favorite was designed to look like the "Caution: Falling Rocks" signs you often see in the mountains. But this one read "Caution: Falling Body Parts". Hilarious.
So clearly, with me turning 30, something was going to happen to my desk. And when they started a day early by constructing the Museum Of Max by hanging old photos of me all over the office, I became excited at what might be in store for my actual birthday. After the jump, what became of my desk...
The Birthday Fortress. Like Superman's Fortress of Solitude, only a lot better, because mine is real and not some silly Hollywood movie prop.
This thing was dominant, harkening back to the days when you were six years old and would use blankets and chairs to make a fort in the basement. I loved it. And actually, there were several people in the office who were jealous of it and wanted a fort installed on their cubicle permanently, because of the privacy it afforded.
They also filled the fort with balloons, which I accidentally popped by rolling over them with my chair for the better part of the morning. People who ordinarily wouldn't be jumpy were awfully on edge. I wonder why...
I was relaying this story to a friend of mine, and she thought it was the coolest thing she'd ever heard. She exclaimed, "They really love you there!"
"Yeah well, I am irresistible," I replied. "Or maybe its just that I'm usually the one involved in most of the jokes around the office, and they're relishing turning the tables on me."
"I'm going with irresistible," she shot back.
And who am I to argue with that? You bet.
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