New York Times article on the trend in office spaces.... I would not mind working in the new Gates Foundation building.  Not one bit.

...The building was designed by NBBJ, a 700-employee architecture firm whose largest operation is in Seattle. The structure is a culmination of ideas about the 21st-century workplace that NBBJ has been exploring in corporate office designs worldwide, including its own offices here.

These are the main concepts: Buzz — conversational noise and commotion — is good. Private offices and expressions of hierarchy are of debatable value. Less space per worker may be inevitable for cost-effectiveness, but it can enhance the working environment, not degrade it. Daylight, lots of it, is indispensable. Chance encounters yield creative energy. And mobility is essential.

This isn’t a suddenly exploding trend. NBBJ’s research has found that two-thirds of American office space is now configured in some sort of open arrangement. But even as these designs save employers space and money, they can make office workers feel like so many cattle. So how to humanize the setting?

SEATTLE serves as a test tube because of several converging factors: There’s a lot of money here to experiment with projects. The work force is relatively young and open to innovation. And the local culture places a high value on informality, autonomy and egalitarianism. People will put in long hours under high pressure if they feel respected, but they won’t tolerate being treated like Dilberts...

[ Go read the whole article and look at the amazing photos here. Seriously]

I don't remember who posted the link this morning on facebook, or to whom they were sending it, but I opened it somewhere around 9am, and then shrunk it until now (4:30pm). I've heard some of my friends mention this blog several times, and the book that was sparked from it, but I don't recall if I've ever checked it out. Today I read the article posted regarding opening doors. It's a fun site. I tend to balance between the truth that a man should be a man, and the less he contrives at it, and more authentic and sincere he is in his behaviors, the more confident, manly, and therefore attractive he is. He puts those around him at ease. The other truth I recognize is that manners are taught and learned, some later than others. And a guy often has to be told what a woman finds sweet, endearing, honoring, or... annoying. I know I tend to follow a lot of more old fashioned trends, as do many, but I love feeling doted, and cared for... it doesn't make me think the guy is interested in me, it just lets me know he cares. I've been lucky to grow up with some great guy friends who (almost) always get the door, and who aren't afraid to tell you that you look pretty when you've taken the time to curl your hair. And trust me, that can be very important when you're the girl who's not afraid to watch a basketball game with them with no make-up, or eat ice cream and watch a movie in your sweats (don't judge - it's what happens when you grow up in a neighborhood together - and truthfully, I'd never want to not be that girl too).

The article discussed opening car doors - and how awkward it can be - so I thought I'd state my own opinion- I don't find it awkward at all. And I don't mind waiting in the car for it. Manners do matter, not so much because it tells people I am important and well-behaved, as that it tells people You are important and worth my best. So, be confident, don't put on airs, but open the door, if she's worth it, she'll appreciate it... and just because you open her door, doesn't mean she thinks you've called her dad. ;)

*Nail clipping*
This is NEVER okay to do at work. So, please stop, unspecified attorney... I can hear you in your office. (I assume it is his toe nails too. I don't know why. But I assume. And it makes it all the worse.)

Escalator Foul.

Don't block both lanes. They may think they're following the rules by not exactly standing on the same stair, but nobody buys this. Blocking the passing lane? Escalator foul lady, escalator foul. Didn't you have a mother to teach you good escalator manners?

Time for a follow-up on Protocol.

There are some thing that are worse than all the rest. Slight things that can be done while seemingly observing the standard escalator (or elevator protocol). These things are typical common sense NOT to do, but intensified in awkwardness when performed in these said places of transition.

This morning, I stood on the right side of the escalator, holding a pound of coffee, a tall cup of coffee, a croissant, and my clutch. I heard two noisy rumblers approaching from the left (below and behind me). I scooted to the right, not really moving much further (since there wasn't much further to go), but communicating by action, hey look, I follow the rules, feel free to pass on my left.

The second of the two men (not as big as they made themselves sound by their clumsy approach) felt free to just awkwardly stare as he walked right beside me, and keep his head turned. I think I am failing to describe this. This is not a 'hey I was checked out today, and while I'm pretending to be anoyed and vent to all of you, I'm really just looking for an excuse to tell you all.' Oh no, this was not that. This was a blatant rejection of escalator protocol, and a strange feeling of having a complete stranger's face far too close to mine and uncaringly just watching.

I fail again I fear. Just walk away remembering this: when you pass on the escalator, don't stare and linger during the pass. I wonder if these people ever took driver's ed? It is the same basic principle: signal, accelerate, pass. Don't linger! Don't stare! Don't incringe on the other's lane!

On another note, I caught myself 'balancing the elevator' the other day. I waited a brief second, and when the 40-year old man in the elevator with me didn't move, I smoothly slid across to the other side in one movement. Balanced- phew, disaster averted! I'm becoming like the rest. :(

Also, I've recognized another trend in elevator conversation. I haven't yet named it (so feel free to chime in with suggestions), but there is a common circumstance that plays out in the elevator. I think the only other place it happens is, middle schools. The bell dings and everyone files in. Undoubtably, there are two or three who work together and know one another and carry some conversation into the elevator, as if all the rest were not uncomfortably gathered around behind them like the great cloud of witnesses. As soon as they step off, one stranger in the crowd will comment on the ridiculousness of that previos conversation, thereby joining the masses into one collective whole- the anti-group. A little laughter, or nod comes from the rest. Nothing more need be said, and the anti-group can now all enjoy the remainder of their ride in silence, without the riveting dialogue about Beck's dog dying last week, the office scandal about John's group that failed to make their goal this quarter (*gasp*), or the difference quality headphones really can make.

The Transitional Protocol.

While working downtown I have been studiously observing protocol in three necessary places of transition: the bus, the elevator, the escalator.

Now, I don't have it all pinned down, but at this point I have done a lot of thinking and I think it would benefit us all for me to externalize those thoughts here.

Bus.
The bus is a dangerous place. Not because of the homeless man, or the smoke-ridden, but moreso because of the women who fall in the gray zone between, not young but not old. And definitely not wanting to be considered old. I've many times now witnessed a young man try to offer his seat to one of these such women. The no thank you spit back could tear the hair from those men's chests. I fear for them. And it is no less terrible for us young girls. The rules of who to offer your seat to on a crowded buss puzzle me. And I would just default to 'offer it, always, to all but punks.' Except, that more often than not it is more insulting than benefitting to fellow bus riders. This morning, I gently layed my gloved hand on the hand of the man standing next to my seat. He was not old, but he had a cane. And the bus was pretty packed. I didn't want him getting pushed around by the uncaring young guy next to him. I offered him my seat. He was polite in denying. But I wondered, did that insult him or bless him? That was the second person I'd offered my seat to. The first was a woman, and when she didn't respond. I pretended I hadn't said anything and opened my book back up (to a random page).

Yes, danger. Caution to the caring.

Elevator.
The elevator has been my favorite transition vehicle. Well- truthfully, I hate elevators. I used to be terrified of them-- I'd sooner have walked 38 floors than taken a cage of death to the heavens. But, now that I've overcome that fear...I relish in the awkward interactions forced on groups of strangers in an elevator. One day, while riding up, I realized I was the only one not facing the door. Apparently, there is unspoken protocol for an elevator: don't face in. You are allowed to make small talk, but you must only swivel from the hips, feet remaining planted towards the sliding doors. I love to stand with my back against the side wall, and face my elevator companion. Sometimes, I even have highly entertaining morning banter with a confidence fellow rider. Another unspoken rule I've found: you must keep the elevator balanced. The doors open and everyone floods in. But as passengers exit, remaining riders will redistribute themselves so as to balance the box. If two are left standing on the right, one will move to the left side. Elemtary physics my dear Watson, elementary.

Escalator.
This is all less concrete to me. Everyone is so concerned with stepping on and stepping off without looking like a fool that they don't seem to follow a bsaic gridwork. I mean, beyond the obvious, stand on the right, walk on the left. But even that is far too often ignored. I've been analyzing observed steps. How many steps ought one to leave between them and the person in front? Does it change if they are a single occupant rider, or have an escalator buddy to their left? I think it is two. One step in between you and them just feels uncomfortable, like you are checking their scalp for lice, peering ominously over their shoulder like a nosy elder sibling.


I have so much still to learn, but these three places of transitional awkwardness bring joy to my life every day. It's a commuter paradise. ;)