He definitely wasn’t supposed to get that email…
Subject: My Boss.
Have I already told you that I hate my boss today?
Sexy as hell or not, this pompous, arrogant, ASSHOLE asked me to pick up his dry cleaning the second I walked through the door. Then he told me that I needed to take his Jaguar to a car wash that was ten miles outside of the city, but only after I needed to stand in a never-ending line to buy some type of limited, hundred-dollar watch.
I honestly can’t wait to see the look on his face two months from now when I tell him that I’m quitting his company and that he can kiss my ass. KISS. MY. ASS.
All those former fantasies about him kissing me with his “mouth of perfection” or bending me over my desk and filling me with his cock are long over. OVER.
Your bestie,
Mya
PS--Please tell me your day is going better than mine…
Subject: Re: My Boss.
No, you haven’t already told me that you hate your boss today, but seeing as though you’ve sent me this email directly, I know now…
Yes, I did ask you to pick up my dry cleaning the second you arrived to work to day. (Where is it?) And I did tell you to take my Jaguar to the car wash and pick up my thousand-dollar watch. (Thank you for taking five hours to do something that could be accomplished in two.)
You don’t have to wait two months from now to see the look on my face when you tell me you’re quitting. I’m standing outside your office at this very moment. ( Open the door. )
No comment on your “fantasies,” although I highly doubt they’re “long over.”
Your boss,
Michael
PS—Yes. My day is definitely going far better than yours…
Subject: My Boss.
Have I already told you that I hate my boss today?
Sexy as hell or not, this pompous, arrogant, ASSHOLE asked me to pick up his dry cleaning the second I walked through the door. Then he told me that I needed to take his Jaguar to a car wash that was ten miles outside of the city, but only after I needed to stand in a never-ending line to buy some type of limited, hundred-dollar watch.
I honestly can’t wait to see the look on his face two months from now when I tell him that I’m quitting his company and that he can kiss my ass. KISS. MY. ASS.
All those former fantasies about him kissing me with his “mouth of perfection” or bending me over my desk and filling me with his cock are long over. OVER.
Your bestie,
Mya
PS--Please tell me your day is going better than mine…
Subject: Re: My Boss.
No, you haven’t already told me that you hate your boss today, but seeing as though you’ve sent me this email directly, I know now…
Yes, I did ask you to pick up my dry cleaning the second you arrived to work to day. (Where is it?) And I did tell you to take my Jaguar to the car wash and pick up my thousand-dollar watch. (Thank you for taking five hours to do something that could be accomplished in two.)
You don’t have to wait two months from now to see the look on my face when you tell me you’re quitting. I’m standing outside your office at this very moment. ( Open the door. )
No comment on your “fantasies,” although I highly doubt they’re “long over.”
Your boss,
Michael
PS—Yes. My day is definitely going far better than yours…
