Tuesday, June 16, 2009

A letter to my co-workers

Dear CodeMonkeys,

Hi... It's your Scullery Maid. The one who washes your coffee cups because even though you are all allegedly grown people who allegedly don't live in your mother's basements, you cannot seem to wash a coffee cup before there is some sort of science experiment growing in it.

Did you all know I have, in my contract, a restriction on lifting? It's not because I'm disabled, it's because the company I work for doesn't want me getting a friggin' hernia or throwing out my back. That's why I usually let you young, strong, male people put the new water bottle on the water cooler. I was hoping one of you would see how EMPTY it was and, ya know, put the new bottle on the cooler. Alas, you seem to be, I don't know, "punishing" me for something, I guess, because it was bone dry this morning. I broke the rules of my contract and put the new bottle on the cooler because I know I am nothing more than a Scullery Maid and you are all so goddamned important and college-educated that you can't do one little thing that isn't in your job description.

Also, I need to talk to you about the mini-fridge in the breakroom. I buy the soda that goes in it. I have a "setup" for how many of which kind of soda gets put in the fridge and make sure that there are always cold sodas available. It is not helpful, then, when one of you yahoos comes along and stuffs all of YOUR favored flavour into the fridge leaving no room for the other flavours. I KNOW you like your Pepsi Max. But, guess what? Only 2 of you drink it. I KNOW you like your Dew but you don't need to fill the whole fridge with Dew you selfish bastards! And don't look at me like I just shit on your desk when I actually walk back to my desk with one of your Beloved Mt. Dew's. I work here, too, ya know! We have two 24 packs of Dew, my having ONE isn't going to mean you are going to go without! So, don't act like I'm some sort of marauder pillaging your village!

Finally, don't think it escapes me that you often all go out to lunch together and don't invite me. To this I say "GROW THE FUCK UP!" This isn't High School, ok? Don't all be coming down the hallway, gabbing away and then get quiet when you pass my office cuz you don't want me to know you're going. Have some balls and tell me to my face. I know I am not a high and mighty CodeMonkey like you are. I know I am but a lowly coffeepot scrubbing, waterbottle hefting scullery maid. I'm not asking to be treated as an EQUAL... I AM asking to be treated like a real person with real feelings, though. Or does that not compute?

No Love,
The Scullery Maid

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