Darren Radar

Here I sit at my first temp job in LA. Offices are the same where ever I go; grimy cubicles, shutter inducing florescent lighting, cell phones and LAN lines ringing in concert, copiers and printers coaxing exasperation from every human in need of them, managers and employees huffing, sighing, gossiping, and assuming a "this stuff really matters" stance during meetings while underneath they day dream and keep close watch on their secretes. The good thing about being a temp is that unless you light something on fire or show up naked, the regular office folk are usually happy to see you, at worst they are indifferent. This regard gives one the feeling of being needed and anonymous and free from the mill of office politics. There are the occasional permanent employees who project an exotic gaze onto a temp, viewing this outsider as someone from a land far more exciting, dangerous, and far less stable than their own. They smile at you with curiosity and sympathy as you pass t...