Dear Women of My Workplace,
I am not your bitch nor are you mine.
You, yes you; I don't interrupt your unbusy time at the desk and ask you to put air into my tire, do I? When I moved out, I didn't call you and tell you to move my shit into my new place, did I? But I conjure up that fake smile of mine and complete the ardous, banal tasks that you
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P.S. Where do you work?
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I work at a law office and at the Savoy Opera house.
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