DESKS I HAVE WORKED AT

 

The first sort of desk I remember sitting at – from first through 6th grades.

In 1967 my desk at work was being moved to a new location.  From the looks of things my in-basket and my out-basket were about the same size so I guess I was keeping up with things well enough.

I used my closed up sewing machine as a small desk after I married and lived in a little 4-room log cabin.

I found this neat little number in a second-hand furniture store after we moved into a 2-room schoolhouse renovated into a 5 bedroom home with a large family room and room for more furniture.

This pine roll-top desk was a thrift shop find for $50.  New, in catalogs, the desk retailed for $200.  The only thing wrong with it were a couple of insignificant scratches and one drawer knob missing and I did eventually find a replacement.  The ladder-back chair was also a thrift shop acquisition.

This French style desk came from a second-hand furniture shop.  It usually sat under the window, but when we brought our injured daughter home from the hospital (after her boating accident in 2004), we had to block off exits from her bed because she couldn’t always remember she couldn't walk without assistance.  So the desk with pillows stacked behind it blocked off the end of the bed.  Two walls blocked off the head of the bed and one side, and two safety rails blocked off the rest at night.

My first computer desk.

My husband’s computer desk.

When we moved into this house my husband’s computer desk became my computer desk (on the left), and mine became his because of the space.  Back there by the sliding glass door which we used as a window, was my work table/desk.  And to the right is my little roll-top desk.

My computer desk in our current home.  I have a great view out the window of trees and the surrounding hills beyond our across-the-street neighbors’ houses.

And my work station/desk.  It’s supposed to be a kitchen bar, but works perfectly as a desk.

:->

La Nightingail

P.S.  Below is a funny story associated with my desk at work back in ’67 which I thought you might get a kick out of?

I subscribe to something called StoryWorth.  They email me a question at the beginning of the week which I answer and at the end of the year the questions and my answers are published in a book for me.  It’s fun because the questions bring up thoughts of things from the past I might never have thought about otherwise.  This past Monday’s question was: “Did you ever get in trouble when you were working?”  And here’s my answer: 

Yes! I was the designated phone receptionist - the person who answered the phone for our department and transferred the call to whomever it was meant for.

One afternoon the phone rang and I answered it finding myself on the receiving end of an obscene phone call. My eyes widened, my eyebrows went up, and the gal next to me, alerted to something unusual, mouthed “What?”

I grinned, covered the speaker part of the phone receiver with my hand and whispered “Obscene caller”! Her mouth fell open, then she grinned and whispered back “What line?” So there the two of us sat, our phones to our ears, with ridiculous grins on our faces, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

Pretty soon the gal behind me wanted to know what was going on, and then the gal next to her, and the gal behind her until there were six of us on the line listening to the guy (at least I assumed it was a guy?) on the other end and we were all laughing, hands flying up to cover mouths in giggling shock at times.

Now it happened that if our boss’s office door was open, which it was most of the time, he could look right out across the aisle to where we all sat at our desks. Seeing six women, all on their phones, laughing and giggling and acting a little strange was a somewhat unusual sight which he decided needed investigating, and out of his office and over to my desk he came.

“What’s going on?” he asked with a perplexed frown and suddenly we were all frozen in place.

“Uh … “, I began, “It’s an, um, obscene phone call.”

He looked a little startled, then glanced around seeing all of us sitting there frozen in place still holding our phone receivers in our hands.

“For heaven’s sake!” he blurted out, “Hang up!” and six phone receivers clunked down on their bases in perfect synchronization.

Our poor boss stood there for a moment slapping an open palm to his forehead trying to collect his thoughts.  “Ladies,” he finally said, looking a bit flustered and mostly at me, “should you get another such call, HANG UP and come to me!  Is that understood?”

“Yes sir.” we all said in unison, but he gave me one last look because, of course, he knew I had been the first one to answer that call. “Yes sir.” I repeated. And at that he turned away and walked back into his office shaking his head.

The men in our department sat somewhat apart from where we did so were unaware, at that point, of what had happened. Later, however, there was a meeting in the boss’s office and suddenly there was a burst of laughter and I knew the boss was telling them what we’d done - especially when the men came out of the meeting looking at us and laughing, some even giving us the “shame on you” brushing-one-forefinger-over-the-other sign. And for the next couple of days they’d laugh and ask “Any new interesting calls today, ladies?”

Fortunately (or unfortunately?) we never got another obscene phone call.