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Dear Colleagues,

We really don’t have a lot in common, except for working at the same company.

I’m just not into obsessing over food, makeup, kids, nor getting drunk over weekends. Using the f**k word in various forms as if it’s a contest doesn’t cut it for me, either.

With so many other topics and interests to talk about – oh, wait —.

Sincerely,

Your Colleague

©Dear Colleague and all works within.

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Dear Colleagues,

When I first came to work, I took my homemade lunch into the kitchen, sat down at a table, and cracked open a book. Others did the same. It was my only time for solitude during the day, and I looked forward to it. This lasted about eight months.

But, no Bug Cheese (a.k.a. Señor Jefé) made it a point every time I sat in the kitchen to read to interrupt me with work topics that weren’t time critical for the moment. It was stuff that could have waited, sent via an email, or not mentioned at all.

I don’t know what his problem was, but he made it so bad for me by interrupting me on my own time, that I started going to the park to eat, or to just eat in my office.

Creep.

Sincerely,

Your Colleague

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Dear Colleagues,

It’s something I cannot pinpoint, but it is there.

I never felt a part of the work team, nor a part of anything there at the office.

Sure, some of you invited me to parties and lunches, and early on I accepted. But you all just talked about your job and about people I never heard of. I was the Token One.

I was never brought up to speed or into the fold. So, I stopped accepting invitations.

I never felt I could use the coffee maker. (I did once or twice, and the kitchen fell silent while I brewed a cup or two.) I never felt it was OK for me to use the microwave ovens, nor the refrigerators.

You made me feel all that belonged to you, and to you only.

That’s part of the reason I don’t venture into the kitchen much any more.

Sincerely,

Your Colleague

©Dear Colleague and all works within.

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Dear Colleague,

Do you wonder why I stop talking with you when you’re in my office to ask a question, and you are mightily engrossed in your smartphone?

Are you afraid to look at a person?

Sincerely,

Your Colleague

©Dear Colleague and all works within.

cropped-man_with_dictaphone_from_tom_cameron_om.jpgDear Colleagues,

It was hilarious to watch you fall all over yourselves when the congressman, congressional aides, and mayor came for meetings over the years.

What was even funnier is how you all shook hands at the door, and summarily marched past my desk – I was right there! – and you expressed the ultimate in rudeness by NOT introducing me at all. But you did go out of your way to make introductions to the rest of the staff.

Still, it does make me laugh to this day on how funny it was to see you all practically have an orgasm with these “important” people.

Sincerely,

Your Colleague

©Dear Colleague and all works within.

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Dear Colleague,

By the time I saw that you were getting too chummy with asking details about my dates with my spouse and where I lived, and my life outside the office, I cooled the sharing-information thing. As you remember, by the end of the first year of my employment – and you kept plopping yourself down in my office at 3 o’clock each Friday afternoon – I would change the subject to work-related issues.

I thought that would solve my problems with you.

But you added a new problem: You began to take me off emails and keep me in the dark about office procedures and new personnel. Yeah – you thought you were such a big man to make sure that since I didn’t share my private life, that you would not share important business information.

What a small man you are, Señor Jefé, a,k,a, Bug Cheese.

Sincerely,

Your Assistant

©Dear Colleague and all works within.

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Dear Colleague,

I didn’t mind sharing the news with you that I bought a house. I was happy about it. You asked where it was, I mentioned the cross streets, and that was that.

A couple of days later, you proudly told me that you rode your (pseudo) motorcycle to my house, and said that now you “knew where I live.”

Oh, yes, you nailed the right house, because the for sale sign was still up.

That really scared me and, of course, I told my spouse. Never in my career had a co-worker or supervisor blatantly tell me he made it a point to physically check out where I lived.

This is about the time, coupled with the twenty questions about my date nights with my spouse that I knew you had a screw loose.

Sincerely,

Your Assistant

©Dear Colleague and all works within.

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