Tagged: Work (580)

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He’s the dude who brushes his teeth in the employee washroom. His boss says, You always smell minty fresh. Then again, she has yellow teeth.

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The cop was breathing heavily. You run fast, he huffed. Then he hit me with his nightstick. I fell to the ground. You run fast, he repeated.

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The old man is painting. His toil is apparent. The painting is of a dog. We can’t tell if he is brilliant or a hack. Modern life is so hard.

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I order a burger. But she brings me a milkshake. I ordered a burger, I complain. We stare at each other. Don’t tell me what to do, she says.

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I walked into the conference room. Everyone was quiet. The air felt morbid. Who died? I said. I laughed. Apparently someone had really died.

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We were about to commit a crime. Waiting kills me, I said. My partner cracked his knuckles. Makes me gassy, he said. And then he proved it.

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My boss walked to my cubicle and said, I wanted to fire you but I was overruled. Then he waited for a response. And waited. Eat shit, I said.

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A minute after my promotion, I received a call from my mother. You don’t call anymore, she said. My balloon popped right there. She heard it.

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It’s almost over. I don’t want this job. I’m asked to name my best quality. Sometimes I leave the office to fart, I say. I let that sink in.

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The relentless barrage of worthlessness. I’m tired of spam! I yell and then from over the cubicle wall, a tuna sandwich, and it tastes good.

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