My ears!

Let's all discuss people who work in cube farms and talk inappropriately loudly. Beginning of sentence that I just overheard from a conference call around the corner and down the way, "Just between you and me...." Not anymore Yelling McYellerson.
Unfortunately, this guy is the boss of you and me. He has a cube with a door. I, being lower on the totem pole, have a closet. But that's better than a cube.
I worked in an office with a door that would shut and with actual ceilings, but the walls were a joke.

I could hear my next-door-neighbor's every phone call, and that meant she could hear mine. I had to whisper confidences--my mother once said, "I thought you were an obscene caller!"

Marsha, my neighbor, had total recall of every conversation. She knew I needed a brake job, and when I was going to the Honda dealer.

For my part, I got sick of hearing about her lawsuit over the botched concrete job on her terrace.