New Office

So my boss decided to move our offices to a new location and I now find myself commuting to the lovely and scenic Colton, CA.  Yesterday at lunch I was exploring the surrounding area, trying to find somewhere to eat that didn’t have a drive-thru, and it appears as though there are actual nice parts to Colton.  Of course, we didn’t move our offices to any of them, opting instead to move to a total shithole.  In this regard, our new offices have quite a bit in common with our old offices, which were located in a total shithole in Pomona.  The old shithole, however, was only ten minutes away from my apartment, whereas the new shithole is forty minutes away.  An extra hour a day spent driving the freeways of Southern California is a drag, but hardly something I’d complain about given that the majority of people I know tend to commute at least that far every day.  What I will complain about is the cost of fucking gas.  I spent just under 92 dollars filling up my tank this morning.  Because I’m a geek, I did some calculations and at the current cost of gas, I’ll be spending an extra 300 dollars a month just for the pleasure of driving to work.  I swear to God, I’m going to kick the balls right off the next oil speculator I run into.

Anyway, as I said, I was exploring the area around the new offices yesterday and, in doing so, I discovered a much better way to get to the office in the morning.  The route I had been taking is easy going until you pass the 215 freeway, at which point a shitload of traffic from the northbound 215 transitions onto the eastbound 10 and the fun begins.  The people entering onto the 10 from the 215 are all in two lanes, trying to merge left, and everyone who wants to exit the 10 is trying to merge right so they can reach the exit in time and what you’re left with is this huge-ass cluster-fuck with three lanes of traffic trying to merge into one, speeds slowing to 5-10 miles per hour, and everyone venomously giving each other the finger.  It takes me about 20-25 minutes to get from my house to the 215 freeway and another 10-15 minutes to get from the 215 freeway to my office, which is only one goddamn mile away from the 215.

However, yesterday at lunch I discovered that by getting off the freeway one exit earlier, I can just cruise around these two winding streets and get into our complex from the back, completely avoiding the cluster-fuck.  Stoked to find this out, I got back from lunch and began telling everyone here the good news, to which, literally all of them replied, “Yeah, you just get off on Mt. Vernon and come in through the back way, right?”  Thanks for filling me in, assholes.

It’s that got-your-back attitude that makes me love my coworkers.  If it weren’t for that I’d probably be looking for a new job or something…


Tim Hatch lives in a secret volcano headquarters somewhere in the South Pacific, where he controls the world economy and writes confessional poetry about his disappointing childhood.

His poetry has been published in MungBeing, East Jasmine Review, The Pacific Review, The Vehicle, Touch: The Journal Of Healing, Apeiron Review, and he is the recipient of the 2014 Felix Valdez Award.

He finds writing about himself in the third person to be an overtly seductive invitation to tell lies.

He once captured a French Eagle at Talavera.

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