Near as I could tell she was up early, typing out a dirty email. For whatever reason, she wished to print up a copy of this abomination. Forgetting, like the incompetent one she is, that the office printer was set to default. I do not know if she ever got it to print at home, but as soon as her laptop connected to the work network those vile words were put to ink.
I cannot, and will not, reproduce said email here. I wasn't able to get past skimming the first line. Once I reached the word "dildo" my mind broke. Thinking back to it, my mind reels. All that's left is a mental image of her holding a giant dildo, caressing it, cooing over it like a baby.
My gorge should rise, but I feel drowned under a wave of ennui. I think I'm in shock.
I stayed out of my office all that day. I couldn't stand to be alone with her husband. Passing her on the street, I had to fight the urge to run screaming as she tried to exchange pleasantries. I don't know what I am going to do tomorrow.
Tonight I will drink. Beer can heal many a wound, and tequila may kill what beer cannot heal. If neither works... I open the absinthe.
Boss lady is coming down Wednesday. If she does not fire them, I give up. I toyed with the idea of quitting, but I really need this paycheck. So instead of quitting, I will simply stop working and wait for her to fire me. I will then sue for wrongful termination, and providing an unsafe work environment.
I plan to show up every morning, secure a small cache of snack foods and diet soda, then sequester myself in a place no one will find me(preferably within range of the wireless router). There, I will spend my days looking at classified ads while working on my resume.
Wish me luck. βeta, out.
P.S. anyone looking to hire a snarky writer? I come cheap. $20,000 a year with full dental and I'm yours.