Please Stop Talking...Forever

Dear Co-Worker,

When I first came to this company, the powers that be determined you and I should work together on the same project. As such, because you had been here longer, you made some sort of snap decision in your head that I now worked for you. This, as I soon pointed out to you, was incorrect. As a result of me knocking you down a peg or two, we've never been friends. I can accept this just fine. I work here for the cash, not as a social experiment to make new friends. As such, I have no problem explaining to you why you're ostracized from the rest of the team.

You have the social skills of a pissed off hornet. Honestly. When you invite your boyfriend to the facility to have lunch together, it's considered bad form to make out in the back of his van. Yes, the van that's parked right in front of our bosses' office. Normal societal values and simple common sense would tell people not to do this. You evidently missed the memo.

Your family lives on the east coast. New Jersey, in fact; something you love to brag about, as apparently being from New Jersey makes you more worldly than those of us from different parts of the United States. I don't really give a rat's ass that you seem to be proud of where you're from. Good on ya, in fact. But when you call your mother on the company dime, it would probably be wise to keep your voice at a level where most people aren't commenting on the way you sound like a royal bitch. I understand your family life probably wasn't the greatest thing growing up. Many people come from dysfunctional families and yours seems like one of the worst, if the one-sided conversations I've heard are any indication. But I honestly don't care to hear your birthday plans back in Jersey. They don't matter to me or to anyone else within ear-shot.

And your conversations with your brother are just plain creepy. They border on incestuous.

But the worst phone call I've ever heard just took place. You were clearly scheduling a doctor's appointment. And we all know how you loathe the medical professionals that live and work here in the San Diego area. Hence your need to take leave every month or two to fly back to the great doctors of the New Jersey area. It's weird, but whatever. It's your money and your vacation time. Use them both as you desire. But when you call your OB/GYN and openly discuss the odd smelling discharge coming out of your vaj, I'm going to be extremely grossed out and make it a point to discuss your conversation with everyone that happened to miss it. And when you receive odd looks from other co-workers in the facility, know it's due to your lack of discretion and the fact that you didn't seem the least bit embarrassed to talk about it with me right here that I felt the need to share it with the rest of the group.

You have a cell phone. May I suggest walking out of the office - a mere 20 foot walk, by the way - and have that conversation away from others? Better yet, just throw it into the Pacific, along with your land line. That way, I won't ever have to hear about your smelly vaj again. Thanks.

- Hershey