INTER-OFFICE MEMO

FROM GARY COMPTON TO ALL MY OFFICE CO-WORKERS




I said good morning when I saw you didn't I?
Asked how your weekend was.
Feigned interest in your longwinded reply.
Well, guess what? I'm done with you for the day.
Do I have to come up with a new greeting or witty retort for you each and every time we pass each other throughout the day?
I'm done. Hear me?
Done.

I'm done with "Jimbo" and his need to tap me on the back or shoulder every time he passes me on the way to the copy machine or water cooler. I saw you and said hello to you at 9:00. What more do you want from me? I acknowledge you each and every time we pass with a head nod or raised eyebrows, and I think that is going above and beyond. That's all I'm willing to give! I've given you ONE verbal daily greeting and that should be efficient. PLEASE STOP TOUCHING ME!

I'm tired of "Gina" and her constant complaints about everything from her husband's chronic halitosis to her neighbor's overgrown hedges.
This just in- I don't care! Nobody Cares!
Are you so self involved that you can't see that I have a queasy look on my face every single time you begin one of your rants. I'm constantly back peddaling and pretending to look over my work when you're bitching about the guy that tried to beat you out for a parking space or how they gave you whole milk instead of low-fat in your latte. You just keep on going, not caring that I'm trying to escape your presence. PLEASE STOP SPEAKING!

I've had it up to here (my hand is touching my forehead) with "Andy" and his constant name dropping and butting into everyone's conversations. Mind your damn business when I'm speaking to someone else! I don't care that you have a boat and that you ate at Wolfgang Puck's restaurant while sitting at a table next to Danny Aiello who laughed at one of your jokes and complimented your taste in wine. Save your breath, no one believes a word you say. You're 37 years old and still live with your parents. We'd all own yachts by now if we didn't have to pay for food or rent. GET A LIFE LOSER!

I'm sick of "Tony" and his double entendres for every word with a vague slang sexual reference. You're kidding with this right? This is a man with three teenage daughters who still is enamored with 5th grade sexual jokes.
You can't use words like 'head','come','blow', etc without him making some sort of vulgar remark as he passes by.
You make all the women uncomfortable and give most of the men the creeps.
(All except "Andy" of course who seems to enjoy it.)
GROW UP YOU SICK LITTLE PERVERT!

Alright, I'm starting to feel a little better. I've been bottling all that up for years and my therapist advised me to confront my anger issues by telling people in my life, in a polite and constructive manner, what's been bothering me.
I hope this exercise allows me to move forward in a positive way and finally get off those nasty anti-depressants.
Thanks to all!
( Next week, I'll discuss my wife and in-laws and some issues I have with those a**holes.)