Open Letter to High-Maintenance Coworker Whose Sister is a Published Writer.

Dear ______:

You look so great today! Have you been working out? And your complexion...did you get a facial over the weekend? You're glowing...the way one's skin glows before it gets all mucked up with hormones and puberty and excessive french fries. And don't even get me started on your hair...those highlights...wow! Yeah, they're kinda reminiscent of that multi-colored thing that gals in NJ were rocking a few years ago, but yet on you it works.

I want you to know that if you need anything at all...ANYTHING...I'm your girl. I'll pick up your anti-depressants at the Duane Reade, if you need me to; and hell, I'll even head over to your apartment in Brooklyn Heights and walk your three poodles...and I loathe poodles. But I'll do this for you. And when I get back from walking your dogs, I'll pick you up a venti Americano at Starbucks, I'll bring it straight to your cubicle and compliment you on your impeccable taste in fashion.

I know you'll be hearing the rumors that I'm only doing this because your sister is a published writer, and I'm trying to be one of those fancy writers, too. However, I assure you that this is very much untrue. Rumors are always started by people who are jealous by the attention that certain fabulous people, like yourself, get from other equally fabulous people (me!).

In case you do get bored though, I'll be leaving my manuscript on my desk should you be so inclined to pick it up and take a gander. Read: find it fascinating, amazing and so prolific that you feel compelled to pass it along to your sister's literary agent. No pressure, of course. Just thought I'd throw it out there.

So I'll be up here, with my manuscript in hand, waiting for you to call me to come by your desk and give you a foot massage. I don't even like feet, but I like your feet...le sigh.

xo.

Mandy.