In which I accuse my coworker falsely by accident

Lately I have this problem where my coworker was not filing anything before I got there. I couldn't think of any explination except that he didn't have time to do it himself.

So I come into work a little early, and see two things:

1. the outbox is hella full. Stagnating furiously.

2. my coworker is reclining on the comfy blue chair, oblivious to my presence because of his ipod and the two black earbuds stuck in his head.

Of course I move to find out what's wrong, in a pacifist manner:

ME: The hell?! You're gonna die!

COWORKER: *takes out earbuds and smiles*

ME: I SAID YOU DIE!

COWORKER: You're early today.

ME: Why haven't you ... why isn't there... I can't believe you!

COWORKER: I gotta go buy a scantron. Can you work now? Byes!

[exit coworker]

As you can imagine, my body and soul overflows with extra bubbly, rabid bacterial froth from the depths of my outrage.

But I'm calm.

I take a sheet of scratch paper from the printer and a daisy-pen from the fake flower pot, and proceed to write my grievances:

To the uber-fabulous, loveable Dino, regarding our common work ethic:
1. Please don't forget to file the stuff in the outbox. It is that brown thing on the side of the desk. Thanks!
2. When you have time, make sure to file anything that might be in the outbox, too.
3. All other duties discharged, there may yet remain SHIT TO BE FILED, and you'd bring us that much closer to global harmony if you FILED IT.
4. Die, bitch! Die! May the fleas of a million hobos build space stations in your nosehair!

My tactful missive complete, I stick it in his box and mutter a prayer that he somehow accidentally chokes on it.

-One Day Passes-

It's 10 in the morning. I just got out of a biology exam, and I smell like last night's chlorine swim.

From afar I see my idiot coworker just ahead of me in the quad, and leap like a tiger, sting like a bee:

ME: You there!

COWORKER: Good morning, Milena! We usually don't see each other until later in the day.

ME: Did you get my note!

COWORKER: What note?

I realized at that moment that intra-office memorandums, no matter how violent the language, were not enough to deal with the gravity of his offenses. It would be much better to complain to our boss and get his hours reduced. Muahahaha!! I wouldn't tell him about the note --in fact, if I ran, I could retrieve it before anyone saw it.

ME: No, nothing. I forgot who I was talking to.

COWORKER: Have I done something wrong?

ME: You leaving me all filing!

COWORKER: What?? Filing??

ME: Oops.

COWORKER: But Logan told me never to file. "Just put it in the outbox," he said.

ME: *embarrasment and confusion*

COWORKER: You wrote me a note about this?

ME: *runs to get the note before its too late*


...the continuing story