Walking Petri Dish

Dear Sir,

I understand that, as accountants, it is busy season. And busy season requires an inordinate amount of self-sacrifice. Which you are doing.

What it does not entail is the sacrificing of others, during your martyrdom complex of coming in with pink eye, the flu, psoriasis and a serious case of herpes. For the love of God, go to the doctor. GO TO THE DOCTOR. We have health insurance for this, and it’s way better than the Obamacare you voted for.

But since you insist on coming in here to create the next worldwide pandemic, then I offer you, Patient Zero, a helpful batch of kindergarten-level tips:

-Your nose: you wipe it with a tissue. NOT YOUR HAND. and you certainly don’t proceed to smear your snot-covered fingers all over my paperwork, pens, stapler, calculator, phone, desk…I’ve gone through 3 cans of Lysol in the last week, and they’re not reimbursing me for this. Buy a fucking box of Kleenex.
-Coughing and sneezing should be covered. Ideally (according to modern health experts) with the crook of your elbow. This keeps your germs from spreading to other surfaces. Using my hair/head as the method to block your bacteria from flying around the office is NOT acceptable. (Wtf is wrong with you!?)
-The herpes/psoriasis, I don’t need you scratching that while you space-invade a mere three inches from my neck while you stand over my desk. You are skeeving me the fuck out.
-This is not health related, but nevertheless, someone should tell you that your lace-front is not only very obvious (your hair is white, and your “hair” is brown) but also very poorly made (I can see the weaving, and I’m pretty sure, no matter what they told you, that’s not human hair. It was probably on something alive at some point, I just can’t figure if it was a boar or a babboon’s ass.)

In short, I speak for myself and your entire staff of underlings, and probably a few of the partners, when I say you are a disgusting man with the manners of a barbarian. You have singlehandedly (literally, with your mucus covered digits) gotten everyone in this office sick. We all hate you, and we hate you even more because of this.

I hope whatever you have morphs into something fatal.

Die. DIE DIE DIE.

Love,
Me

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