Hey Dude,

As you know, I'm entering the third week of my internship at this office and so far things have been great—everyone has been polite and my boss isn't as big a dick as I originally thought. If I had to complain about one thing though, I guess it would be you.

When I first met you, you seemed like a normal guy; you had no detectable body odor, you were wearing pants, and you had no visible scars on your face that would indicate that you're part of a crime syndicate, all things I look for when meeting new people. However, after three weeks here, I now know that you may very well be the child of Satan.

I understand that it's hard to make friends; you need to find people who enjoy the same things you do and then cultivate that relationship until it turns into mutual respect. But you have chosen to bypass that system completely by just showing up at my cubicle at random intervals throughout the day and spewing whatever garbage comes to your mind. I don't care about the weather and I don't want to know what you did this weekend, although I'm sure that weeding your garden must have been an awe-inspiring experience.

I thought things were at the lowest point, but then I discovered that you had added me as a friend on Facebook. What I'm truly confused about is why you think I care about these mundane events, when nobody else in the office seems to. I personally blame the fact that I chose to answer your seemingly innocent question in the cafeteria one day instead of awkwardly shuffling in place and clearing my throat like the other people. Little did I know that "Cold enough for you?" would soon turn into, "Do you want to see pictures of my cat doing something that only I find entertaining?"

Every time I want to get up and pour myself some coffee from the kitchen, I need to plan my route with ninja-like efficiency to avoid any face to face contact with you. Thankfully I have plenty of experience from playing the Metal Gear Solid saga and I know that the best way to distract you is by knocking on a neighbouring cubicle and then running in the opposite direction when you approach. Still, somehow you manage to corner me in the most awkward rooms in the office at the most inappropriate times. Here's a tip for you: if I have anything in my hand that is either edible or can expel urine, it is probably not the greatest time for a conversation.
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