Cultural anthropologist

It's time for our favorite game, "What's in a Coworker's Drawer?" Our contestant this week is Tom, a dude who works in the office a few cubicles over from me. Tom is that guy who is very gracious with his stash of chewing gum, because a three-martini lunch capped off by a pair of highballs can give your mouth a certain stink you need to conceal. Luckily enough, you have Tom's drawer to assist. But, let's go further...

How can you not be fascinated by someone's desk drawer? It has to be a reflection of his or her character, right? All the objects contained therein must betray the life of the stasher. What does this area tell us?

Well, for one, this might be the last sample of "Extra" chewing gum left on planet Earth. Somewhere between bits of "JuicyFruit" encased in amber and a stick of that vile, pink gum that used to come packed in trading cards falls this cultural artifact. Surely as flavorful and texturally lush as the eucharest, "Extra" delivers chewing pleasure for minutes on end. Adjacent to it is the bandolier of Wrigley's Spearmint, the very gum we were looking for in the first place, so we shant say a bad word about it.

Another thing makes itself painfully apparent -- the last known cassette walkman in existence outside of Almaty, Kazakhstan. Convenient that the batteries are near it, just in case someone wants to break out that cassette single of Journey's "Lovin', Touchin', Squeezin" we all keep in our desks and give it a good rocking. I thought that technology this outmoded had a self-meltdown code written into it, like Ethan Hunt's weekly message. I guess the walkman's drive to live on and play Will2Power's "I'm Not In Love" shall keep it alive many more years into the future.

The hairbrush is also a nice touch -- not quite a comb, not quite a bristle-haired brush, but rather the stiffest, most uncomfortable thing you could rake across your scalp. Moving on...

And here we have a "travel-size" Vapo-Rub, the sweet nectar of the sternum area that alerts all around to the fact that you have both a sinusoidal infection AND a clever new solution in the cologne department. I can't for the life of me come up with a good reason why Axe Body Spray hasn't tried to emulate the ’Rub. Chick magnet. Or, more fittingly, pharmacist magnet.

We don't speak ill of our fellow man, but rather, we appreciate all that they do for us. Also, I'd be so busted if someone cracked my drawer open and found the 20 oz. bottle of J.W. Red I keep in there for cold nights. In the summer. I should watch for coworkers bearing cameras... sneaky little fucks.