We have mice in our office. No one ever sees them, but we do see the evidence that they leave behind. A little gross, but I have cats so the bodily functions of animals have stopped bothering me. And even though people do leave food on their desks from time to time and sometimes not all of the crumbs are cleaned up after treats are brought in, I sometimes have to wonder what kind of mice live in a corporate office building full of cubes….
The corporate mice come out at night. Long after we regular workers have gone home. After the cleaning crew has been through. They commute from the fields around our building or from the walls and foundations. They leave their families of tiny baby mice and skitter through the walls and across the industrial carpet to our cubes. It’s easy for them to climb up to the desktops because of the cloth coverings on the cubes. Maybe they take a moment to snack on the bits of chips or leftover muffins or bagels left on the desktops, but then it’s time to go to work.
They whip out their little mouse keyboard and plug them into our computers. Out come the headsets and then the real work begins. There is a whole army worth of mice out there that need coordinating. Field-mouse traffic control in the surrounding area must be a nightmare, especially with all the construction going on nearby. The mouse family relocation service helping to find safe new holes for the families displaced by all the new roads being rebuilt and rerouted has their work cut out for them. I’m sure they’ve got a back-log of requests for new housing, especially considering all of the recent flooding in the area.
We also have a pair of hawks that live near our building and I’m sure there’s an entire Hawk Awareness Squad that provided updates and alerts on the movements of the birds. Who knows how many deaths have been prevented by the vigilance of these intrepid observers. I’m sure this department also monitors the movements of all the housecats and wild predators in the area as well. They probably have radars and surveillance equipment in every suburban home for miles around.
Then I’m sure there exists the Mouse Liaison Committee. Their job is to coordinate with other mice across the state, the county, the nation, and the world. Because I’m sure ours is not the only office fully staffed with mice. In fact, if Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy has taught me anything, it’s that the mice of the world really run things. The logistics involved in getting the humans of the world to cooperate with their wishes must be staggering. This office is most likely filled with the tiny squeaks of executive mice issuing orders and handling negotiations between different mouse agencies across the globe. Right now, especially after all the flooding, I’m sure they’re deeply involved in emergency planning and relief effort. Maybe they came out and snatched some of the goodies off of my desk to pass on to the victims of the flooding in Vermont.
Of course there’s also the celebrity mouse division. I mean, folks like Mickey, Danger Mouse, and Mighty Mouse need someone to coordinate their hoards of adoring fans. In fact, I think I might have seen a tiny little bag of mouse fan mail that the sorters missed when they were going through the latest fan mail from teeny adolescent mice in our area. I bet the home offices of mousedom in Orlando are just dripping with those miniscule envelopes. I wonder what kind of a stamp it takes to send mouse-mail. I bet there’s a lovely picture of some sort of cheese on their stamps.
So really I guess I don’t mind that the corner of the wrapper of the Snickers bar I have had sitting on my desk for a while has been chewed through and part of the bar inside is missing. Those industrious little corporate mice need something to help them make it through their night as much as I need a little treat in the afternoon. In fact, maybe by forgetting I had that candy on my desk for so long I’m just doing my part to help the underground mouse society flourish.
Or maybe I should bring my cats in to work some day for an overnight stay.