Topic A : A Different Spin on the World Around Us : The Way Real Pros Play Office Politics

As harried members of the Clinton transition team huddle in Little Rock, Ark., wrestling with the nation’s most intractable problems, their counterparts on Capitol Hill are equally enmeshed in hard-nosed strategy sessions.

But only a few weeks after the general election, it is neither the federal deficit nor national health insurance that is first on the list of pressing congressional concerns. Instead, Hill staffers are obsessed with the urgent issue of . . . office space.

Their office space.

In a unique biennial ritual, members of Congress, in order of seniority, are drawing lots to see who will get first dibs on the sometimes sumptuous official quarters being vacated by the near-record number of departing lawmakers.

“The vultures are circling,” says Paul Mero, press secretary to retiring California Rep. William E. Dannemeyer (R-Fullerton), a seven-term congressman who occupies choice space in the Rayburn Building--the newest and most spacious of the three House office structures.

The House will have 110 new members, the highest turnover since 1948, and the departures will result in about 300 moves, explains Bill Raines, an assistant to the Architect of the Capitol. And that has prompted a feeding frenzy.

Staffers whose bosses are eyeing Dannemeyer’s digs “kind of invite their way into the office and ask if they can look around,” Mero says. “They come in threes. . . . It’s a regular drill around here.”

The advance parties want to know such things as: Does the boss’s office have a power view overlooking Independence Avenue and, hence, the Capitol? Or will the chief have to put up with a vista of the Capitol Hill power plant?

The lottery began two weeks ago, when members who have served nine or more continuous terms picked their magic numbers from a polished mahogany box and selected new quarters. The process will continue into December, as each day a less senior congressional class takes its turn.

The marathon will culminate Dec. 16, when 110 freshman representatives queue up in the cavernous Cannon Caucus Room to test their luck. Then, the rush is on.

Once the lottery determines the pecking order, members have 20 minutes to select their nesting place for the next two years. Like a pro-football franchise before the college draft, each staff must be fully prepared, with detailed scouting reports that examine the strengths and shortcomings of each office enclave.

“I have this great pile of information on all the available office space,” says David S. Coggin, chief of staff for California Rep. Ron Packard (R-Oceanside). “I have a layout of all the floors of each building, with total square feet, member’s office square feet, staff square feet, reception area. The ones that have 1,800 square feet, I have my eye on those.”

This is serious business. Senior congressional aides have been spotted in their offices, staring intently at Channel 3 on the closed-circuit television network that serves the House. And they’re not watching reruns of George Bush’s greatest speeches.

In recent days, the House network has been continuously screening the list of available offices. As the lottery progresses through the food chain, the choicer offices disappear, and new, smaller quarters are added to the list.

“It’s unlike anything else that I know of,” says Bob Miley, superintendent of the three House buildings--Rayburn, Cannon and Longworth. Miley oversees the lottery and the moves, which will be carried out by his regular maintenance crews at little additional cost to taxpayers.

The Senate, of course, permits nothing that so much resembles a round of “Wheel of Fortune.” There, in keeping with the chamber’s studied decorum, offices are filled by seniority. In the event of a tie, the lawmaker with the biggest home-state population wins.

In the House, the most sought-after prizes are offices with glorious views of the Capitol and the most square footage and that are near a member’s committee rooms. The Rayburn Building is especially prized because filing cabinets are built into the walls, saving precious space for even more congressional staffers and their paraphernalia.

But there are other, less tangible factors involved, says 13-term Rep. Andy Jacobs (D-Ind.).

“There is a lot of trinketry to this, symbolism that is not intrinsically related to creature comforts,” Jacobs says. “Each person has his or her own motives.”

Some hold the right office space so dear that they have been willing to trample courtesy and, in some cases, decency.

One congressional aide recalled the days in the summer of 1989, after former Texas Rep. Mickey Leland’s aircraft disappeared in Africa. “Before they even found the wreckage of the plane, staffers were going into his office and checking it out,” says the aide. “Before they even knew the man was dead. What would you call that?”

In the current round, the biggest prize--a 1,226-square-foot suite in the Rayburn Building--went to Rep. Bill Ford (D-Mich.). The office not only boasts 150 more square feet than Ford’s old quarters, but it is right down the hall from the House Labor Committee, which Ford chairs.

For Packard, who has served five terms, the moment of truth came when chief of staff Coggin pulled No. 12 from the wooden box. Now, Packard is on his way from the fourth floor of the aging Cannon Building to the first floor of Rayburn.

“We have a view of the illustrious West Court fountain,” Coggin says, tongue in cheek. “But it’s closer to the committee rooms, and it’s 120 more square feet.”

Drawing a low number had only one drawback, Coggin says: “I hate moving.”