elizaskinner.net – the jambox

Dude. Quit it. Quit walking past my cubicle on your way to the bathroom. We both know that you’re going way out of your way, and that unless you need to go to a doctor you don’t need to visit the bathroom that often. Or here – why don’t we compromise: you can keep walking past me gratuitously, as long as you stop trying to talk to me every time. It is hard enough trying to look busy at a temp job, let alone busy enough to avoid your aggressive need to talk to me.

Your attention is not flattering, it is creepy. See, you offered the attention, I was polite about it, but turned it down. When you kept pressing me to the point that I now have to hide from you in the copy room while I microwave my Lean Cuisine, you declared yourself Totally Creepy. I am doing NOTHING to invite your attention. When I start sitting at my desk in a bikini rubbing lip gloss on my chest and whispering your name – or fuck, if I even learn your name – then your level of attention will be warrented. Until then, you’re out of line.

Here are some things I am not doing as “conversation openers” with you: blowing my nose, eating, taking medication, working on my computer, walking to the bathroom, throwing away trash. Yet, you have mistakenly assumed ALL of these things mark occasions for you to chat me up. You are wrong. But I’m trapped in this cubicle, I can’t just walk away as I might at a bar or party – you know, the places where it’s appropriate to try to pick someone up.

So, dude, just quit it.

-Not Interested

This entry was posted on Friday, April 27th, 2007 at 12:42 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.