Dear guy in the cubicle next to mine:
I've been here for two months already and we've never been introduced, you just happen to occupy the little doorless and windowless room next to mine. I know your name only because it's posted near the entrance - but I'm not sure I would know you by sight. You probably have no idea who I am as there is still no name on my cubicle. From what I gather you work in accounting as that lady from accounting who smokes a million packs a day often visits you and i can smell her and hear her raspy coughs. Runaway imaginations might believe you two were having an affair - but I have something to admit - I listen to your phone calls and know much more about your life than I might let on..
Yes, as if your Hot 97 on all day wasn't enough, I've noticed your penchant for making personal phone calls - to your boys, to your girl - sometimes you speak english, but most of the time you speak in rap video using slang words I'm not sure P. Diddy even understands. I say dump your girl because she sounds immature. I believe you when you say you saw her drive past your house to check up on you after she called from her cellie and asked where you were. It was a month ago and you're still talking about it - so shut up and dump her already..
Anyway, I'm sure you have some things to say to me. I know I often call my friends from work - and my friend calls from London early in the morning (which must piss you off) I know I'm a PR professional, on the phone with famous magazines and media outlets, while you're just some lowly bean-counter - regardless of all this, we have to share this space divided only by carpeted walls..so let's try and work it out.
Best
the guy in the cubicle next to yours
P.S. I think your t-shirt silk screening business will be a big success - bigger than FUBU
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