We are a small company. There are fewer than ten of us in the office, which means that the addition of my presence last month should have been somewhat noticeable. I see you at least every other day, we’ve sat in a luncheon together, and been introduced twice.
I think you should know who I am.
But for some reason, you don’t. When you see me around work, you get a blank look on your face, as if I’m perhaps just stopping by to sell something. I get the impression that if we were alone together in the office at night, you’d call security because you thought I was an unauthorized intruder.
As a result, I have been drinking the cans of Diet Mountain Dew that you keep in the office refrigerator. I generally prefer my Diet Mountain Dew in bottles because I think it tastes better, but the added sweetness of stealing your sodas more than compensates. I hope you don’t mind, but even if you do, I’m not concerned. You’ll never suspect me. After all, you’d have to know my name for that and, well, we both know where you stand on that one.
Cheers,
Lindsay