dear every 18 year old i have to work with,
your narcissism kills me. eight hour shifts feel like eight hours of an ice pick just attacking away at my brain. i can't stand hearing your voice tell me about your drama. i can't stand it that when i try to speak about a general subject, you interrupt me and find something to talk about that involves yourself. i hate that you spend more time looking at yourself in a mirror than doing actual work. worse yet, i hate that you tell people that you think i hate you. i don't hate you as a person . i hate working with you. you're useless. you're literally of no use on this earth. if you died we'd all be better off. then i could at least have a competent, tolerable coworker to take your place.
dear store manager of the store i'm temporarily working at,
i know you're only nice to me because i have a ****. i'm okay with that. your employees, however, are not. we all know you're a sham. we all know that you put on a show of being a high and mighty manager when really you're terribly insecure about every leader-esque decision you make. you're kind of a huge idiot. i hope you get over yourself.
i hate you. i've never loathed a coworker as much as i despise you. everyone dislikes you; and even if we put our petty differences and disagreements aside, it kills me to know that you're so lazy. that you make your partners do all the work while you sit on your fat "vegetarian" **** in the back playing on your phone. it's pathetic that you even feel that you deserve my respect, lest anyone elses. you haven't earned it from anyone and you NEVER will. and i swear, when you get fired, it'll be the greatest christmas gift i could ever receive.