POSTCARD FROM WASHINGTON: Beyond Office Space

WASHINGTON—When not drinking on the weekends, my housemates and I frequently watch movies to pass the time. This past weekend, we saw Stanley Kubrick’s dark comedy masterpiece Dr. Strangelove (or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb) and Mike Judge’s cult classic about the American workplace, Office Space. I still can’t decide which one was more enjoyable.

Before I receive hate mail (or hate postcards, as it were), let me just make it clear that I think Strangelove is by far the better movie. By implying that I like both movies, I’m not trying to lionize the creator of Beavis and Butthead at the expense of Kubrick’s genius. Obviously, I know that mentioning both movies in the same breath is a general insult to the former and an unnecessary aggrandizement of the latter. Then again, from what I’ve heard from fellow interns and seen for myself, Judge’s oeuvre is much more timely and hits much closer to home for those in my generation than Kubrick’s Cold War relic. And that relevance, I’ve decided, is what makes Office Space more fitting, if not more enjoyable.

If you’ve ever worked in a corporate setting, done menial office work or even spent time in front of a computer in a cubicle, then you must see Office Space. The social commentary isn’t that trenchant, and the themes are rather flippant, but the movie is truly notable for its caricatures and its satire of the generic American workplace. The monotony of working a 9-to-5 job alongside eccentric people in a bland, quasi-corporate environment is increasingly becoming a universal theme for the babies of the Baby Boomers.

Here in Washington, many interns commiserate with Peter, the protagonist of Office Space, because they also perform seemingly meaningless and repetitive clerical tasks on Capitol Hill, in the White House, or for some federal agency. Admittedly, it’s easy to find some common ground with the Office Space characters. Just about everyone has “a case of the Mondays” (and wants to beat the crap out of those who use said phrase). Just about everyone has to put up with a Bill Lumbergh-like boss, who incessantly sends memos about asinine things like TPS reports. Just about everyone is frustrated by fax machines and the “PC LOAD LETTER” error message. Just about everyone has a Milton—the deranged loner who is given odd jobs to keep him busy. And just about everyone has a Samir or a Michael Bolton—co-workers who become friends through shared agony and disdain of repetitive and seemingly pointless work.

But I would disagree with my fellow Washington interns who whine about the occasionally boring and unchallenging nature of their jobs and who simply appropriate Peter’s pain as their own. I know that being an intern isn’t the most glorious job in the world. In fact, I’m sure I’ve done as much boring office work this summer as I did last summer, when I worked for the litigation department of a law firm back home. But I would be lying if I reported that my current job is as tedious and tiresome as the previous one. Truth is, I’m really enjoying myself here in D.C., and I’m honestly having a great time doing glorified clerical work. It’s the context that makes all the difference, and I think many people here are missing the point.

For instance, in the last three weeks in the office of Sen. Edward M. Kennedy ’54-’56 (D-Mass.), I’ve done a fair share of all sorts of office jobs. I’ve copied, stamped, faxed, filed, called, stapled, collated, stuffed, sealed, slacked, typed and slept. I haven’t forgotten a cover sheet to a TPS report, but I have botched other relatively simple tasks. I’ve had to put up with a Milton-like character who may actually one day set the Russell Senate Office Building on fire if he doesn’t get his way. I’ve also made good friends, who, like Mike Bolton and Samir, have made the hours pass more easily.

But what amazes me most about my job is the backdrop for these menial tasks and the context in which they’re placed. Making copies in general sounds horrible, but making copies of a press release for a major press conference on a significant piece of legislation is oddly enjoyable. Calling random people and getting contact information sounds dull, but calling random famous people like Willie Mays and Paul Newman in order to update the Senator’s personal black book is not so bad. Catching the bus in the morning sucks at first, but driving up Pennsylvania Avenue past the White House and towards the Capitol makes it a little more bearable.

I think you catch my drift, and I certainly hope that my fellow interns also understand my underlying message. Obviously, work in general can be a royal pain, and monotonous office work is even worse. That’s why we all feel the same sympathies for Peter in Office Space. We understand his work-related depression and cheer for him in his post-hypnotic awakening and liberation from the horrors of his boring job. But, like Peter, I hope that other interns who have been fortunate enough to come to D.C. and enjoy its sights and sensations will snap out of whiny complaint and instead embrace a Zen-like appreciation for this summer and for the work ahead.

And I’m confident if people can get past the pain of generic office work and appreciate their Washington internships on a different level, then they’ll perhaps relax and begin to enjoy what they do. More importantly, they’ll also know what Peter eventually discovers in the movie:

“Damn, it feels good to be a gangsta.”

Daniel E. Fernandez ’03, a government concentrator in Lowell House, is associate sports editor of The Crimson. He is spending this summer working in Sen. Kennedy’s office.