A new employee’s recent college fling walks into his new job (in a different city), towing her luggage and a one-way ticket.
I can’t believe this is happening.
I haven’t seen this girl in months. Now, here she is, bigger than shit, sitting there smiling that same goofy smile I thought I’d never see again. I have a thousand other things to do, this is my job after all, and I have to deal with this. This is not how I wanted to start my Friday.
OK it took some doing, but it looks like she’s leaving, even if she is crying all over the place. Just a few more minutes, and I can forget this ever happened and get back to my job.
She does look cute though.
She obviously bought a new dress. It looks rather fetching on her. I had almost forgotten how hot those flowers tattooed across her back. . .
Whoa. No way buddy. Stop thinking with your dick.
She may look cute, but this is unhealthy. I broke up with her months ago, and instead of moving on with her life, she flew all the way from Chicago to Washington without so much as a damn phone call warning me. That would have been too easy. Instead she Googles me, finds out where I work, and shows up at my office instead.
Not cool, you psycho.
She seems to be leaving. OK, it looks like she’s gone. I’m going back to work. I have piles of shit to do, and I’m still trying to feel my way through the office and see how things are done here. I’ve only been here a few weeks anyway.
I can’t believe she’s here at my office. I need a drink.
Oh great, now my bosses are coming over. Look busy. Maybe they haven’t noticed. Maybe I contained everything.
Wrong.
Apparently she didn’t leave, and both of my bosses want to know why there is some woman carrying on, crying all over the place, and generally having a major shitstorm of a meltdown in the advertising offices. You know boss, I’d like to know there answer to that as well.
Yes, yes, I’ll get rid of her.
You have no idea how gone she’s about to be.
I need a drink. Something long, dark, and stiff.
That’s what she said.
It’s 3 p.m. Shit. It’ll be hours before I get a chance to get drunk. Way drunk. And then maybe make out with someone. Not her. Anyone else will do really. I need to get the taste of crazy out of my mouth.
Yes, haha, this is hilarious. Damn copy editor wants to know if she’s pregnant. I hope he catches some horrible fungus of the crotch. Something that burns. Who asks that? Only a douche bag. Well he’s certainly that. No she’s not pregnant. Thanks for bringing it up.
Asshole.
OK, she’s in a cab, and all I see are tail lights. I’ll never see her again. For real this time.
I hope.
I’ll definitely be looking over my shoulder on my way home. Thank God she doesn’t know where I live.
This is certainly not going to help me around the office. She did look cute.
I need a drink.
