I was sitting here, minding my own business, reading random celebrity gossip online as I am wont to do, when the janitor/custodial manager/company old guy walked into my office and began opening and closing file cabinet drawers.

I considered possible explanations. Perhaps he was senile and his unannounced entrance into offices and systematic opening of cabinets was a company problem one must learn to deal with. But then a girl appeared behind him and started cooing noises of approval as the old man continued to open and close drawers.

I was confused. Did the girl want my file cabinets? Did the man? Then the girl frowned. She stared at the wall above my computer.

"Is there anyway to get more shelf space in here?" she asked.

"Oh yes, definitely, that shouldn't be a problem at all." He nodded reassuringly.
Uncertainly, I stood up and began to move stuff out of my filing cabinets.

"Oh don't worry!" the girl said, looking at me for the first time. "It's not happening now."

I nodded like I totally knew what "it" was, sat back down and pretended to be busy at my computer while the two puttered about behind me, taking measurements and laughing happily.

I will assume I am being booted out of my office, back into the land of cubes where my company bitchdom belongs. This is fine. But doesn't someone have to tell me?