Ah, the polished professionalism of Temp Town

I posted a while back about how the agency folks here keep a moat between themselves and the temps. OK, OK, it's just locked doors that our key cards won't open, but if they could have found a way to put a moat in, they would have. Naturally, then, most of their knowledge of what transpires out in the temp-filled areas is second-hand, coming from project managers, temps squealing on other temps -- don't forget, Temp Town is populated by middle-schoolers with law degrees, and that may be attributing too much maturity to some, so we get a lot of "Billy hurt my feelings!" around here  -- and from the occasional pass-through that the agency types have to make through the temp areas to get from the moat-protected offices to the exit from the office suite.

This isolation from reality -- or at least from the reality the temps live in -- is the only explanation I have for the goings-on at the reception desk. Simply put, in the absence of adult supervision, the two women who staff the front desk do some things that you would be really shocked to see in most professional offices. They fairly often blare music from either a radio or some kind of MP3 player so loud that it is audible down the hall where we are working. The music is, universally, fucking awful. This does not prevent them from singing along. Rest assured that these people are in no danger of being offered off- or on Broadway roles. The final insult is that the speakers are so cheap the music is horrifically tinny and usually unrecognizable, although that could be due to their shitty taste in music. Safe behind their moat, though, the agency suits are apparently blissfully unaware.

Update: They could get better speakers and play an oldie but goodie: