Illustration by Bob AulRemember me, you mortgage-lending FUCK? I'm the girl you hired straight out of the university to become your "right-hand person," the girl who was so excited to land a fantastic job on the central coast from a guy whose company is based in Orange County, my hometown. Why didn't I read through to your cheesy sexual intentions from the start? Because I could never imagine that someone could be so outright slimy—especially since you had a beautiful wife and four darling children (all under the age of 6!!) ensconced within a few blocks of your office/second home. Remember how you tried to get me into shorts and a tank top before you dragged me to a local nude beach—all in the name of "surveying the land" around your house? Or how you tried to woo me with a membership to a local spa? Or better yet, when you suggested that we have massages together? Still stupid, I traveled down to OC with you for some business meetings at headquarters. I should have paid attention to a big sign: your employees acting like I was the current flavor on the employee roster. What really capped it, though, was when you put me in your company's condo that night and said you were going to stay in a local hotel. Then you pathetically come knocking on the door at 11 p.m. to say you can't find a room and that you are going to stay in the other bedroom. I let you in. You begin to whine about how lonely you are, how your wife doesn't understand you, and how my boyfriend is so wrong for me. Finally—finally!—a light shines bright in my head as I looked into your oily, pathetically desperate face. It was good advice you gave me to lock my bedroom door that night—good but needless. Damn, it was great when the next "right-hand girl" discovered my phone number and the letter from my lawyer and had a hunch that I had been sexually harassed, just as she was. That was quite a boon for my case, and your guilty ass caved. I have always wanted to thank you for the 35 Gs and the trip to Costa Rica. My husband and I had a fan-fucking-tastic time, all in your name, you wretched EMPLOYEE FUCKER!!
Recommended For YouPowered by SailThru
If you like this story, consider signing up for our email newsletters.
SHOW ME HOW
You have successfully signed up for your selected newsletter(s) - please keep an eye on your mailbox, we're movin' in!