#office space

[ultrakillblast]

OFFICE SPACE (1999)

[animusrox]

Office Space (1999) dir. Mike Judge

[ww2yaoi]

OFFICE SPACE (1999): I just stare at my desk, but it looks like I'm working

[skinks]

they don’t put enough pathetic sunburned back-arching men with giant baby deer eyes as leads in movies any more

[lupoteodoro]

Ron Livingston 1999

[businessmemes]

if you interact with Jenessica you will be reassigned to the JAR.

[morlock-holmes]

I will spare the OP of that post on movies about stifling office life more of my ranting because I respect them, but I have more to say about Office Space.

Office Space does not depict a "9 to 5" job, this is a major plot point in the movie:

This is a white collar job where all the workers are constantly subjected to crunch time and seven day work weeks while, at the same time, they spend hours on utterly pointless tasks like changing the cover sheets on reports.

They are subjected to countless tiny indignities for more than half of their waking hours; Milton prefers a different brand of stapler to the one that the company uses and it gets repossessed by the boss.

I have more than one white collar, office job working mutual who has posted about how intolerable such jobs are and how they have worked to escape them.

Movies like Office Space are about the tyranny of the boss; the way that he can subject you to a million tiny little indignities while simultaneously demanding that you pretend that you are happy to work there and see yourself as part of the team that is really actually looking out for you:

What the movie is also about, (and you can definitely add Fight Club in here too, and even The Matrix to some extent) is the psychological effect of spending an enormous chunk of your life enduring these kinds of repeated small indignities and dissatisfactions because, logically and objectively, the pay you are receiving for them is more than enough compensation and the danger of attempting to respond to them and maintain your dignity is not worth it. That's objective fact, and to believe otherwise constitutes a kind of delusion.

The protagonists in both Fight Club and Office Space have simultaneously internalized this to the point where they hold themselves back from any kind of rebellion as impossible, and, at the same time, remain unable to actually believe it; the movies are about what happens when that internal contradiction can no longer be maintained and you reach a breaking point.

PS - I think it is a bit of a "theory of mind" failure to imagine that Hollywood people make movies about petty internal politics, backbiting and insincere friendliness because they like living in Hollywood so much and don't experience that kind of thing there.

[opendirectories]

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Office Space 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you're an assistant to private and corporate investigator, Nick Fowler, and find yourself brought into the fold of his shady professional life. 

Characters: Nick Fowler, Jonathan Pine, this reader is known as Elfie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

Another thick folder falls on your desk. You look up as Mr. Fowler strides without a word into his office. No explanation, no directive, as ever he's elusive but demanding. 

You sigh and push your mouse aside, bringing the folder in front of you. You open it up and find stacks of hand-written notes, receipts, and reports. You get the happy task of digitizing each one and sorting it into the electronic archive for investigation.  

Your boss closes himself into his office as you sit in the vacant silence of the small lobby. It's no walk-in location. PI work doesn't exactly operate that way. Corporate investigations are even less advertised. Fowler does more than find the corruption, he scrubs it when necessary. 

You expect the discretion of the work is why he hired you. You don't talk much. You do you work without question and clock out. Still, it doesn't keep you from after hours or early arrivals. He texts and you're where you need to be. 

You sort through the thick folder. Chronological or by type? Some don't have dates and what would you categorize a cocktail napkin as? You get up and haul it all into the copier room. It's the smallest room in the rented space, made tighter by the filing cabinets and the industrial printer. 

You unhook your laptop and bring it into the copier room. You put it on the narrow table and go to task. It's mindless work. You fall into the pattern of scanning, numbering, and cataloguing. The copier hums in the empty static. 

No music, no noise. Your request for white noise was declined without consideration. You accept without argument. Fowler isn't the type to entertain pushback. He's the boss. 

Whatever, you wouldn't trade the silence for the top ten on repeat at your previous retail gig. The people are enough to make you tolerate the isolation. Besides, it's a job, it's not meant to be fun.  

You get your kicks after work; a drink with your fellow corporate drones down at Retro's. Thinking of, it's been some time since you had a spicy margarita. You pause your work and go to retrieve your phone from your purse. As you find it hiding in the middle pocket, Fowler's door opens and he promptly marches over to stamp his mug down on your desk. Shoot. 

"Emergency?" He wonders as his blue eyes narrow at your grip on the phone. 

"No, sir, checking the time," you lie and drop the cell back in your purse and hide it in your drawer. "Coffee?" 

He doesn't answer, merely taps the brim and walks away. He leaves his office door open as he retreats. You give a tight smile to the empty office and snatch up the dark blue cup. 

You take it into the little room meant to be some sort of break space. You don't take breaks and neither does he. You approach the expensive nespresso machine and go through the motions. Cappucino. You've become a pseudo-barista since you started the job. 

The smell of coffee tempts you. You're permitted to have one of your own but you have to supply your own coffee and dairy. It's easier to hit the cafe on your way or pack a cup from home.  

You carry it out and tentatively approach Mr. Fowler's door. You peer inside and clear your throat. He sneers at his phone without acknowledging you. You near and place his cup on the marble coaster beside his apple mouse. 

"We have an extra mug?" He asks without looking up. 

"Yes, sir, I think--" 

"I don't need you to think, I need yes or no." 

"Yes," you swallow down his bluntness. As you least you never have to wonder what's on his mind. He'll tell you. 

"I'm in expecting someone in twenty minutes." 

That's it. You have the pieces, put it together. His visitor will require their own beverage. Lovely. A rare drop-in is hardly exciting, more stressful. If they're important enough to come in, they're important enough to be concerned. 

You go to find a second cup. You have your own, a red travel mug without a handle. You’ll leave the silicon lid in your drawer and give it a quick rinse.  

You wait behind your desk, the mug clean and sparkling beside the nespresso in anticipation. You’ll go back to your scanning once you have the visitor settled. You know Fowler wouldn’t want them walking into an empty desk. In the meantime, you sift through another case file on your screen. 

When the door opens, you pop up, overly alert. That’s not your usual state. This place makes you sleepy. You stand up to greet the man as he steps through. 

He’s tall, taller than Fowler, but slender. While his shoulders are broad, the rest of him is trim. His blonde hair is kept neatly and his blue eyes are crystalline where your boss’ are dark and stormy. This man is like sunshine compared to the usual grim cloud over this place. 

“Hello, uh, sir,” you smile, “you must be here to see Mr. Fowler.” 

“Yes, that’s me,” he says breezily, “Jonathan Pine.” 

“Okay, erm, I’ll let him know you’re here,” you round the desk, hitting your hip on the corner but hiding the pang it sends down your thigh, “uh, would you like a coffee?” 

“How kind to offer, but no, I’m more of a tea drinker,” he replies, “pardon, but I didn’t get your name.” 

“Elfie,” you utter instinctively, “er, excuse me, I’ll just go let Mr. Fowler--” 

You scurry to the office door and it opens before you can reach it. Mr. Fowler steps out and sends you a sardonic look. You wince and step back out of his way. He struts by and approaches Jonathan, Mr. Pine properly, with his hand out in offering. 

“Pine.” 

“Nick,” the man answers familiarly, “long time.” 

“Not long enough,” Fowler counters as they shake hands firmly. He’s a few inches shorter than Pine though hardly falters at the fact. “Elfie, coffee.” 

“She did offer,” Pine intones, “I politely declined. You know it isn’t my style.” 

“Mm, yes, I know your style too well,” Fowler rebuffs and lets him go, gesturing him through his office door. As he follows, he glances back at you and arches a brow. What did you do wrong this time? 

[simmir99]

Office space✨

Mari and Oliver's shared office 😍 #WIP

FINALLY, The Girl Next Door, Part II will premiere on SUNDAY!!

JOIN the Mari, Oliver and all of the shenanigans HERE on YouTube 🎉✨

[toyastales]

Landscape Wallpaper

[arc-hus]

Bruce Street Commercial Building, Preston, Australia - Carr

[haroldhearsawho]

This man is FIFTY SEVEN. This man is almost SIXTY years old and LOOKS LIKE THIS. HIS FUCKING HAIR?!? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!? HOW?!? WHO ALLOWED HIM TO ONLY GET SEXIER WITH AGE?!?

[haveyouseenthismovie-poll]

[animusrox]

7 COMFORT MOVIES (in no particular order) ↳ tagged by @ethan-hawke (thanks sav! I love doing these)

tagging: @talesfromthecrypts, @classichorrorblog, @zombooyah, @anthonysperkins, @losthavenmine, @rogerdeakinsdp, @tessas-thompson, @ayo-edebiri, @nessa007, @pascow, @waymond-wang, @anderwater, @gresit, @acecroft, @feodor-dostoevsky, @bladesrunner, @thequantumranger, @luke-skywalker, and anyone else who is reading this!