Dust To Dust

At work, my desk is under an A/C vent. Occasionally, large-ish lumps of black dust will descend and coat my desk.

The guy across from me has the same problem. It's annoying, but it doesn't bother either of us too much. Usually I'll just wipe off my keyboard as I sit down. Occasionally it gums up my mouse.

I hadn't thought about it, but this has been going on for almost a year. It's not daily, but it's at least twice a week. Many of the little lumps are just big enough that they smear when I try to brush them off. It looks like I've been drawing on my desk with a crayon.

A few days ago, an enthusiastic lump drifted over and landed on Big Dawg's desk. A full-scale emergency was launched.

I became aware of the crisis when I saw our building manager's head appear over my cubical wall. Imagine a "Kilroy was here" moment, but with a Super Mario Brother head. His moustache did a better job of dusting than I ever do.

He and one of the facilities crew were discussing the black powder at high volume. They wandered constantly and caressed my desk repeatedly. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

"The dust blows out over here?"
"Yeah, all over his desk."
"There's no dust now."
"I already wiped down his desk."
"So it doesn't blow out over here?"
"It always blows out over here."
"There's no dust now."
"That's because I wiped it down."
"What I don't understand is why there's no dust here."

Eventually Super Mario came to terms with the problem. I've seen him in the hallway a couple of times since then. He always points and says, "We're working on your dust problem." If I'd known he'd be so single-minded and determined about it, I would have brushed some of the dust over on Big Dawg's desk months ago.