My cubicle neighbor, let's call her ... "Lorraine" (that sounds phony enough), used to work with her headphones on most of the day. Meanwhile, I play whatever I feel like into the open office soundscape.
We were shooting the breeze a few months ago and I was playing Deerhoof's "The Runners Four" again. She told me frankly, but not in a mean-spirited way, that it sounded like torture.
Wrong Time Capsule - Deerhoof
She doesn't work here any more.
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(It might be fun to allow you to draw the wrong conclusion by ending the post with that sentence, but really, her departure had nothing to do with music and plenty to do with a high-paying position elsewhere. I miss you "Lorraine"! You are hopefully working in an environment free from squeaky vocals and heavy guitars)
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