Desk Jockeying

Punch lines Craig Robinson and Rainn Wilson backstage at the Paramount Theatre
in October.
Image: Lindsay Borden
RAINN WILSON and Craig Robinson of NBC’s The Office finally arrive—half an hour behind schedule—clutching Starbucks cups and looking like they just slogged out of a three-hour meeting with Michael Scott. Wilson, in a blazer and tie, gives quick, crisp answers like his nerdy cube dweller Dwight Schrute. Robinson is the laid-back straight man—complete with Big Lebowski “Abide” T-shirt—a la his warehouse worker Darryl Philbin. He even brought his keyboard.
We’re backstage at the Paramount Theatre, stowed away in a dressing room with two busy, busy stars of TV and film in from Los Angeles. In an hour, Shorecrest High grad Wilson will emcee a benefit show he organized for the Mona Foundation—which he calls “the perfect charity” for its support of schools in developing countries. Wilson’s off-air buddy Robinson will do stand-up—he’ll even get the audience to sing “Summer Lovin’ ”—and the Presidents of the United States of America will play an acoustic set for all those nostalgic for the mid-’90s. It’s the kind of love Wilson frequently shows his hometown—the end to a day that already included an hour-long chat with local high school students about philanthropy and an appearance at a Kiehl’s cosmetics store opening.
While the big news at The Office these days is Steve Carell’s planned departure at the end of this season, an even bigger issue looms: Who will succeed Michael Scott as boss of Dunder Mifflin’s Scranton branch? A few names have been tossed around—Ricky Gervais (not gonna happen, folks), Harvey Keitel, Due Date’s Zach Galifianakis, Rhys Darby (Murray from Flight of the Conchords)—but a promotion from within is also enticing, and both Robinson’s and Wilson’s characters are in a position to take over.
Would they fight for it?
They turn, ready to box, but quickly drop their fists.
“I don’t really want the job,” Robinson says quietly.
“Me neither,” Wilson says. “I’m happy being assistant regional manager.” (Or as Michael Scott would no doubt interject: “assistant to the regional manager.”) Then, turning to Robinson, Wilson adds, “I think you were happier down in the warehouse.”
“I was. Now I’ve gotta be in the office every day? Fantastic.”