guess who won't be in the showcase showdown?

this is where i work. a fairly normal-looking office building in the heart of san francisco's financial district, housing a variety of offices and businesses.
with our twenty-something floors and several elevator banks, our floors divided into separate-entry suites and key codes or entry pads, you can imagine that interaction between those of us who share this building is, at best, limited. most remain silent during brief elevator rides, and eye contact in the lobby is a rarity as everyone brushes by everyone else.



this is drew carey. yesterday, for the first time in my brief new career, he brought us all together.



since the link may not be so clear, i'll explain, shortly after which i'm sure you will be nodding your head in agreement and sympathy.

a gentleman was understandably disappointed that he did not make it on to 'the price is right.' sources have not confirmed whether he was hoping to appear under bob barker's tenure or with the inimitable mr. carey - either way, however, this guy was upset. so upset, in fact, that he took to the streets to express his anger.

and by the streets, i mean a law firm at a building across from mine.

and by his anger, i mean a bomb.

we got back from lunch to find yellow police tape clumsily strewn around the building and across the block. since i work on the side of the building facing the law firm being threatened, i was discouraged from returning to my office my the police. discouraged, but not prohibited. and on the wrong side, like 30 feet would make all the difference in my safety in the event of a bomb explosion. perhaps that is the case - but not so much a chance i'm willing to take.

so for thirty minutes, people from all across the building - i literally have no idea what any of them do, except that there is one company called pb&j, or something like that - came together to take cover in the glassed-in lobby, speculate about the identity of this disgruntled would-be game show participant, and spread rumors like we were in tenth grade.

once we got the all-clear, we dispersed to our respective places of work and returned to our nominally civil and professional interactions. i don't know what happened to the sleighted bomber, but i do know that, bizarre as the circumstances were, it was actually nice to talk with the people i otherwise walk past every day. i don't wish for any further activity of this kind in the near future, but it did strike me how a display of somewhat deranged frustration could bind together a group of people who share so much without ever acknowledging it, myself included.

plus, holy shit! i mean, seriously? the price is right?! seriously?!?!