Boy, you get a lot of personal phone calls.

I'd really, really like to see you naked.

I think about you when I go to the bathroom.

You're BORING!

BORING!

You're way too pretty to work here.

Please don't stop.

Your chair smells nice.

The phone conversation you just had complaining about your husband's worsening erectile dysfunction was truly none of my business. Please use your indoor voice.

Thanks for putting up with me.

I know you're really smart, but your inability to speak English despite having been in this country for 15 years makes you really hard to deal with.

[post-it note 1:] Drop the attitude, princess, and pick up the slack.

[post-it note 2:] I'll stop acting like your mom the minute you stop acting like a child, young lady.

Shampoo, soap and deodorant. Please.

I really did leave this note for a fellow DJ.

I do not care about the Cubs, nor your football pool, nor how long you sat in traffic to get here, and I thought that sitting thirty feet away from you would be a safe enough distance not to hear your daily bellowing. I've never heard you address anyone at a volume anywhere below a shout, I am sick of seeing you abuse and intimidate people who are just trying to do their jobs, and despite the fact that you've given birth to children, I have trouble believing you aren't one of the muscle-headed jocks who used to torment me in high school. I'm glad that you're only 4 feet tall, but I still wish you would go the hell away.

I'm not your mother, clean up your shit.

matildaben, don't they are very so annoying people, who not well english speaks? All my coworkers also talks english wrong.
I really didn't have to try hard for that... sigh

Why the fuck do you insist on zipping up an empty cash bag every goddamned morning, you stupid nunfucker?

No one who lives off pickled onions is allowed to loom over my shoulder, especially for no reason.

Also, chew your pickled onions with your mouth closed.

Thank you.

Also- I'd really NOT like to see you naked- put your fucking shirt back on.

I totally deserve your pay rate.

Yes, we noticed your hair.
No, we didn't say anything.
It's because we do. Not. Care.
And it looks ridiculous.

oh, and also:

[post-it note 3:] You know that little verbal tick you have, hm? That rising half-giggle, half-sneery "hm?" you tack on the end of most sentences, hm? That one, hm? FUCKING STOP IT.

Despite this office's open-plan layout, not every conversation that takes place within your range of hearing needs your input. STFU.

You know what? When you breathe? Close your mouth. Thanks.

You know what? That whisper of yours? Not really very quiet. Yes, I know your husband is in jail again. No, I don't really care. Why do you keep going back to him? Jeez.

You know what? That cell phone ringtone you have, the Law and Order theme song? It's really not so cute. Especially not when you get 3 calls an hour. No, not so cute.

You know what? Hickies on 30-somethings?

Not cool.

And also? JON BON JOVI??? YOUR PERSONAL FUCKING CUBICLE SHRINE TO HIM? IT'S REALLY FUCKING WEIRD!! YOU ARE A GROWN WOMAN!! AND YOUR VANITY PLATE -- I♥JBJVI -- IT'S JUST CREEPY.

*Scratches pups back.*
Easy love it's OK.

My post-it: "mudpuppie stop hassling me, alright?"

"Try working it out yourself for once."

Either you've gained weight or the cleaner shrunk everything you own. You make enough money to raise a family of four, and you're single. There's no excuse.

Please buy some clothes that fit properly.

The whole "walking perfume bomb" thing makes me want to punch you.

Shut. UP.

Oh, and

chew at a distance. I do NOT wish to hear you consuming ANYTHING. I get that twice a day when I feed our dogs. And see a shrink for your fucking insecurities, rather than foisting them on coworkers to bear with you. We don't want yours anymore than you want ours. Deal.

wow I'm mean!

Every single day, you arrive ten or fifteen minutes late. Stop doing that.

Honey, you've "worked" here for nine years. "But I didn't know that we had to do [insert task that you've had to do every year]!!" is a piss-poor excuse. Please stop filing grievances with the union every time you are asked to do the things in your job description! Please get off the phone with your 100 relatives and work! Please stop inquiring of any student who walks in with a headscarf during Ramandan if they're fasting, in that snippy "I'm a better Muslim than you" tone of voice. Please stop hinting to our Catholic secretary that short sleeved shirts are not appropriate dress for a modest woman. Please realise that my boss backs up your work every day so she can check it, and knows that you're inputting only a quarter of the survey data, and doing that bit wrong, even though she asks you about it every day. You act like a spoiled 10 year old who complains that she has to do chores to get her allowance -- but you don't do them and they still pay you!

Please realise that every work-study student who's worked in this office, especially myself, cringes at the thought of working in an office environment because of you. Please just do your job and be passably nice to people, is that too much to ask? Even doing 70% of your job would be a huge improvement.

And when my boss gives me YOUR task because you say you'll do it but mysteriously never get around to it, DON'T file a grievance to the union when you find out. She's only giving your job away because we need to keep this place running.

I'm going to murder you tomorrow.

Lighten up, man. Would it kill you to smile?

That time you were whacking off in the bathroom thinking of me?

I was in the next stall over dude. Try not to moan my name so loudly next time. Also, I don't do co-workers.

You know that thing you did? That place you went? That thing you bought? I know. You've told me a million times. Guess what? I didn't give a fuck the first time. Shut up and piss off.