Years and years ago, back when I had less than 16 units to my name from college, I worked a Christmas stint at a major clothing retailer in the Bay Area running stock. In typical corporate fashion, they had over hired for the Christmas season. No one in management really wanted to point this out as the fear was that the next year, they would cut back too far. So, everyone stayed mum and my direct boss, who liked me said, “Look, do what needs doing and stay out of sight otherwise.”
So, I would go in, work 30-45 minutes and then spend the rest of the day staying out of the way, by discovering what was where in the four floors of the store. One of my favorite places to hide out was this completely unused employee restroom in the basement. I could go in there and read for hours. I probably read more during the two months I worked for the store than I have my entire life after getting my English Lit degree.
Well, it turns out that such escape is not possible at a place like Google as I found out from my first visit. No, there aren’t computers in the bathroom so that your Number Two can be as productive as the rest of your day, but they do have snippets of code in various places to think about. They are above the urinals and on the back doors of the stalls in the men’s restroom and also in the stalls of the women’s restroom (let me emphasize that this was confirmed to me by a woman and not firsthand.) So, there you have it, the culture of code even saturates the most sacrosanct place in all of Spain.
Oh yeah, as for that job I had years ago, they kept asking me back year after year basically because when I was seen, I was working, unlike other morons who hadn’t clued in to this and go fired left and right because people saw them goofing around. I’m guessing that this is probably not such a problem at Google.
Codin' in the Boy's Room