Oh the chaotic, frantic life of a single young man in love with fun. Girls, golf, a bike and institute. That’s what his life is built upon. He is a vending machine of girls in search of his sugar mama. He has his choice and usually his choice doesn’t work out then his coworkers deal with the XY PMSing affects. Sometimes I feel like a shrink listening to his daily stories. Two days go by and I could write a novel with what he tells me I missed. This very minute he is making me write his biography but it feels like a eulogy. I can’t help but wonder what my husband thinks of me writing this about him. So to clarify, this is a public proclamation of how annoying, pestering, Mr. Jon Poll is to me and the others surrounding our work desks. He is fully aware of the poke I am making and I fully expect something rude to come out of his mouth as soon as it’s posted. Day to day, it looks like two siblings fighting throughout the entire day…I just found out he was a super senior! Off subject but I made fun of all super seniors….it’s pathetic.
I come in and immediately he mocks me, calls me gimpy or tells me I look like a man. This is what I deal with day in and day out. He has drastic girl drama issues everyday and when he tells me he has a new date, I always have to ask if he did or will make out with this unknowing, ill prepared prey. Then he has to ask my advice on whether the relationship is going well or not. I should start charging per incredible piece of advice I provide. My friend Corbi and I are his support, yet bash group. We get made fun of, yet help him realize he isn’t as smart as his big, fohawk head makes him think he is.
He speaks Spanish, whoopee! Every day I have to fix his schedule for Spanish calls that he often and always will take advantage of. Milk it for all it’s worth, Mr. Jon brown noser.
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