Here, Fishy, Fishy

My co-worker has plants everywhere in his cube. He often gets cuttings of plants that he likes and then starts them out in a jar of water. Lately, he’s been babying a cutting that has a vase larger than needed. He’s been using that extra space as a fish tank for a little blue beta.

Sometimes that little fish would go several days without food. And my co-worker told me that it was ok because beta’s can handle it. Tonight one of my neighbors told me that, in their natural state, beta’s live in puddles. They jump from one puddle to another to find food.

Through a series of events, I ended up utilizing this co-worker’s cube this afternoon, rather than my own. As I was working, another co-worker came over to chat. He spotted the container of fish food which led to a discussion on the existence of the fish and a search of the bowl where he lived. The bowl is located on top of a cabinet. My co-worker could not locate the fish. As he glanced down at the desk, he spotted a shriveled up little blue form on a piece of paper next to the cabinet.

“Is that the fish?”

“Ooohhh. I could have gone all day without you pointing that out.” I moved my computer further away. It wasn’t actually that close to begin with but I didn’t want to be near the dead fish.

He tried to convince me to clean it up. “I’m not touching that!”

He agreed saying, “That’s the job of the cleaning people, right?”

Discussions about why the fish would jump out of the bowl and whether he was looking for another basin of water ensued. “Looks like he committed suicide”, I was told.

So then we began a discussion on whether and how to tell the cube owner (who was was working remotely) about the demise of his pet.

Somewhere in this whole thing I began laughing. And couldn’t quit. And everything anyone said about the fish made me laugh harder.

It’s a good thing that the work I was doing was not brain intensive. I’d never have finished it.

When I finally got myself under control, I thought that maybe it would be better if the cube owner were notified. I toyed with taking a picture and texting it over. But I settled for sending a text-only email titled “Here Fishy, Fishy”. The text of the email was something along the lines of “I regret to inform you that your fish appears to have committed suicide... he is all shriveled up on a piece of paper on your desk.”

Copied the co-worker who discovered the death and hit send. Immediate snickering from the next cube over followed by a pronouncement that my email was harsh. “Why didn’t you just take a picture and send it? That’s only a little worse.” “I considered it.”

Cube owner’s response: “Thank you for the information. I hope he didn’t suffer too much.”

Followed shortly by a phone call. Cube owner was actually laughing a little, as well, so I don’t think my email was overly harsh. If I thought the fish was more important to him, I would never have sent an email with the information.

Then, cube owner attempts to get me to clean up the dead fish. “I’m not touching that.” He started laughing and said, “Ok. I’ll take care of it in the morning.”

Here, fishy, fishy. I’m still laughing.