The modern office is host to all kinds of sounds overheard during the workday. Phones ringing, faxes being sent, bosses screaming, people sobbing at their desks; all of these noises eventually fade into a white-noise background din, undifferentiated from day to day. Yet one type of noise manages to rise above the rest: the whistler.
In my office, it seems to be contagious. One person starts whistling some Disney theme song, and it sets off a reaction down the hallways, until it resembles something like being sentenced to life without parole in an aviary. The guy to my left whistles jaunty show tunes, and gives everything an annoying warble with each note, like he's strolling the streets of yesteryear London. The guy to my right whistles Christmas tunes. All. Year. Long. And he wears bowties, weighs about four-hundred pounds and is a Scout Master!
I'm all for a little merriment. When the coffee runs out, we all need something to lift our spirits, but c'mon. I'll take bagpipes, the kazoo, an air horn-anything, a dwarf humming Metallica's 'And Justice For All' in its entirety. Please.
No comments:
Post a Comment