The Horrifying Things I’ve Seen as an Office Manager in Silicon Valley
My colleagues don’t know I hate them
This article is part of San Francisco Confesses, a feature series dedicated to anonymous stories from locals they’d never share with their name attached.
I received the Slack message at 10 p.m., right before jumping into bed to watch an episode, or three, of The Office. I know I should snooze my notifications, but I never do — the anxiety that comes with a later barrage of messages at once is too much.
This message was from a salesperson at the startup where I work, a guy we can call Greg. Greg could be described as a kvetch; something is always irritating him, and he is not shy about letting me know. You see, as an office manager, it’s my job to grit my teeth, listen, fulfill every last request he — or any other employee — has while being grateful for the stock options and health insurance.
Greg’s requests are usually for the specific whey protein that he’d like in the office, but this one was different.
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This message was a picture of a toilet clogged with shit.
