Wednesday, 16 March 2005 | Turning coworkers into friends

I knew I hadn't ordered anything from Amazon, but there it was, a brown box sitting on my desk with my name on it. Nevermind that the package had been messily fastened with duct tape—I didn't give myself a chance to contemplate the reason for that, or why part of my name had been obscured. Instead, I eagerly grabbed the nearest pair of scissors and stabbed through the seam, wondering what exciting present was awaiting me on the other side.

I was momentarily confused and disappointed by what I found: two identical books bearing the logo of the organization I work for. (It turns out, the coworker who sits beside me was reusing an old box of mine to send some work materials. It took me a few seconds to figure that out.) I looked up at my coworker, whose back was to me, and timidly called her name. She turned around to find me guiltily poised over the box, holding the pair of scissors like a dagger. Her package looked like it had been ripped open by savages. "Uh...sorry about that."

***

By the way, I posted a local (on-site) version of my barber shop photo essay from The Morning News, which includes twenty additional pictures.