Average-Sized Coworkers Complain Dwarf’s Office Doesn’t Accommodate Them

Patrick Longshanks didn’t mince words when he complained to human resources about his team lead, Riley O’Shea, and how her office doesn’t accommodate him. “I don’t fit. Everything’s just too short.” He waved his hand toward the floor. “I mean all her furniture is half a meter or lower. What if I barge into her office unannounced? I could trip. Isn’t she a safety violation or something?”

The HR representative, Mike Tranquilo, tried to find a compromise. “You could reserve one of the conference rooms and work with her there.”

“That’s not the point,” Longshanks said. “I shouldn’t have to go somewhere else to work with her. That’s discrimination.” Tranquilo made notes on his tablet.

“It’s not just the furniture. Her mouse is some weird customized trackball. I can’t grab it and have my way with a presentation like I can with any of my normal-sized coworkers.”

“Average-sized,” Tranquilo corrected.

“Whatever. Her screen is so low I have to squat down to shoulder surf. I nearly ripped my pants trying to read her private chats before she minimized her screen. Plus, I can’t just throw paperwork onto her desk like I do with everyone else. I tried last week and it landed on her head. Why can’t she just use a regular desk? It can’t be that hard climbing up into her seat and back down a dozen times a day.”

Dennis Tristey chimed in from the next cubicle: “The family photos on her wall creep me out.”

“What’s wrong with them?” Tranquilo asked.

“They’re all down … down low.”

“And?” Tranquilo prompted.

“It’s unseemly,” Tristey said. “Every time I walk into her office I feel like her mom is looking at my crotch.”

When O’Shea was asked what she thought about her coworkers’ concerns, she looked up at Tranquilo, nonplussed. “I think their issues have nothing to do with me.”