A letter to the woman-in-the-office

Dear Woman-in-office,

You may know me as the guy who comes into your office three days a week via the door right in front of your cubicle. You may know me as the tall bearded guy with a smile who says hello to you every afternoon without fail. This letter is from me to you, in an effort to let you know how much I despise every single inch of you.

Never have I ever met someone who so obviously turns a blind eye to friendly salutations as you. I thought it was a fluke at first and you just didn't happen to hear me as I said "Hi, how are you?" and you just looked at me and turned your head. After a year of you sitting in that same seat, and after a year of saying hello with no response, I am convinced you are just a miserable witch.

Being an extrovert I am fueled by interaction. To be shut down so bluntly day after day is taking a severe toll on my ego and I vow not to lose. Yes, you still refuse to say hi to me even after looking me dead in the eyes as I say hello, but I'm still going to do it because you're an evil evil woman and I won't let you change my outward personality. Even though in my dreams you're being burned alive I would still cherish the day that you atleast smiled at me, or gave a wave. Not as an invitation to be best friends, but a friendly "Hey, I exist and so do you." acknowledgment.

So in reality, woman-in-office, I would enjoy stapling your eyelids open and punching you repeatedly in the ribs. But instead I'll just keep saying hello and being totally ignored.

Love always,
Keith Maynard