Kalah Allen
Hey, you, my old "boss." I put the words in quotes because you make the name instantly ironic. These are--I pray--my last words to you; perhaps this note will give me closure. Where do you get off?! As a worker bee you are less than worthless, and I fucking carried your ass for more years than I care to count. And now, I hear, you are going around the office dissing ME?! Is it because with me gone are you forced to actually fucking do something?! For years I have watched you cheat on your expense account, have called you in the middle of the workday when you were at a "meeting" only to wake you up, and have seen your pickup in your driveway during business hours. And did I keep this information to myself? Well, yes. Because when I attempted to discuss your jaw-dropping inability to do anything resembling work to upper management, they rolled their eyes (this again?) or chuckled, "I bet I know what this is about!" C'mon, we both know why you got the promotion over me--nothing to do with your "abilities"--and we know how you have managed to keep this job when all common and business sense says your ass should have been fired years ago. So don't go around bitching about me at work. I still have friends there; don't think they don't tell me these things. I am unemployed now, dead broke. But at least I don't have to work rings around your inept self and let you hog the credit anymore. I have physically moved on; this is my attempt to do the same emotionally, before I am moved to just beat the shit out of you once and for all.--Anonymous