2003-12-09 - 7:52 p.m.

Dear New Girl;

When I trained you I was confident that you were going to be an excellent server. That was before you started talking. You talk way too much. I cannot tolerate you talking any more. If you don't shut up I will have to kill you. You cannot follow me around talking all day. You just cannot. And you especially cannot stand inches from my body talking to me. GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME. I just want to eat my cereal in peace for the love of god. Isn't it obvious that I have things to do when I am diligently writing and concentrating on something. I do not need you in my ear. Get out of my ear. You are so annoying and you do not need to say, "My boyfriend Ryan," or, "My friend Meridith," every time you talk about them. WE KNOW RYAN IS YOUR BBBBOOOOOYYYYFFFRRRRIIIEEEND and we know Meridith is your friend. They no longer need those descriptions before their names. You are so annoying and if I hear you one more time tell us that you were adopted (especially because the first day I worked with you I heard the story that you weren't REALLY adopted, you were simply adopted by your fathers new wife which is not the same as being adopted adopted like you want, for some reason, people to think)I will have to throw you out. We have all had it. All of us have suffered nerve damage from you. And you don't do shit. You EAT all day. And then today you sang that song you made up...My pants are falling off, which is the story of my life, I need to gain some weight, I need to gain some weight...which makes me believe that you probably have some sort of eating disorder because while you are not too skinny, you are skinny, skinnier than I would expect someone who eats bicuits and gravy and danishes all day to be. And you wanted to point out that you are skinny by singing that song and I almost killed you when you sang that song.

I hate you.


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