Letter 3
Butch,
I am so sorry to hear about Ricky. I know you can’t tell me much about what happened, but I hope it means you’re not injured. I guess that’s a leap. Unless he was a copilot…
Ugh, so what you don’t know is that I’m really nosy.
I should intro you to another friend of mine. :P. We’re all nosy AF, but P, who works for the same psycho lawyer as Z, says I’m the worst. I can’t help it. I’m okay with curiosity killing the cat because, dude, who the fuck wants to live in the dark?
Not. Me.
But I get that you can’t tell me what’s going on if it’s classified.
I wish that you weren’t hurting. If there’s anything I can do, then please tell me. 3
You were right about the rubellite. I bought a pebble and I stuck it in my purse so that I can draw on it when I need to. I told P, not Z, about what the conductor did and she encouraged me to talk to my union. It’s a whole messy process, but the annoying thing is, he’ll probably get away with it.
Technically, he did nothing wrong.
We have no HR rule that forbids fraternization between company employees, and it’s not like he’s doing anything that someone else would notice.
But I notice.
Mostly, I’m pissed off.
As much as I appreciate the idea of siccing you on him, I can handle myself. Z and I, back when we first came to live here, took self-defense classes. It was the only way my dad would let up on me moving to the Big Apple.
Unfortunately, if I break the conductor’s nose like I want to, then it’ll be my career that will suffer.
Ugh, so unfair.
He’s not sexually harassing me, just being the Douche of Doucheville. Saying nasty shit, etc.
I’m glad that my letters bring a smile to your face and that I’m not irritating you.
Looking forward to hearing from you too,
T