'It wasn't unusual for strangers to be assigned to share double beds' - Does Google know how to throw a party, or what?

The quote above comes from Ariana Eunjung Cha's fascinating front-page story in this past Tuesday's Washington Post.

She wrote about Google's employee get-together at Squaw Valley, California last week.

From the story:

"Google employees, all of whom said they are prohibited from speaking with the media without prior approval, jokingly grumbled that the mandatory event was somewhat like camping."

Jeez, I don't know about you but when I used to go camping, at least I got my own sleeping bag. But I digress.

I mean, having to share a bed with a stranger would not guarantee a good night's sleep for moi, I'll tell you that.

It sounds like something Megan Smith, once of PlanetOut Inc., might have dreamed up.

Wait a minute - it says in the very same Post story that Megan Smith now works in business development for Google.

Huh - well, that explains it.

The more I read about all the "free" Google amenities provided at their headquarters - lunch and dinner prepared by world-class chefs, on-site doctors and massage therapists, snack rooms stocked with "... healthy treats such as yogurt, nuts and string cheese; there are some sweets, but employees have to hunt for these as they are often placed in more remote locations." - the more I get the sense that the company is quietly hugging its employees to death.

Basically, it becomes easy to work an 80 or 100-hour week if you don't watch yourself: there are on-site sleep rooms as well.

More from the article: "The company also encourages bonding by requiring that workers – even managers – share hotel rooms when they travel."

I don't know about you, but when I travel and have to stay in a hotel, one of the few pleasurable parts of the experience is being able to cut a fart without anyone noticing.

Sometimes I even laugh.

Guess that wouldn't go over very well at Google.

Let me tell you a story - you like a story now and then, don't you?

I thought so.

Once upon a time, in a medical center not all that far away - in fact, four miles from where I sit this very moment - I worked in a very high-powered academic anesthesiology department.

Every year our department held its holiday party at a nice place on the University of Virginia campus: the Darden School, the law school, the Colonnade Club, Alumni Hall, etc.

It was always around mid-December, on a Friday night.

Now, I can't speak for you, but me, I couldn't imagine a group of people I'd rather have been around less when I wasn't working than my fellow anesthesiology faculty members.

I mean, doctors are boring to start with and anesthesiologists are boring squared - maybe cubed.

Look, you're falling asleep - that proves it, doesn't it?

'Course, it could be the gas....

Where was I?

Oh, yeah, the holiday party.

I'd been told right after I started working at UVA that attending the party was mandatory unless you were on call.

One year, I decided to skip it.

Because one of the exquisite pleasures of life when you're teaching anesthesia 70 hours a week is Friday night, on no call of any type.

You sit, you have a beer, you read, you chill, it's just heaven.

So I figured I'd do that instead of go to the party.

The next week, on Monday, I got a message from the principal's - oops, I meant my chairman's - secretary that he wanted to see me.

Don't have to be an academic anesthesiologist to figure out why, do you?

He said he'd "missed me at the party - was anything wrong?"

I made my first step toward leaving "to pursue other interests" when I replied, "No, I just decided to stay home and read."

He made a very unhappy face, which I translated as, "Don't let it happen again."

Guess what?

I did - let it happen again.

But not too many times more, if - as the chairman used to say - "you get my drift."

So that's why I find Google's approach to togetherness so troubling.

I guess I just wouldn't work out very well there.

Oh, well.

Maybe I could try blogging.

I wonder what that's like.