She doesn’t even give me the cold shoulder, like she’s on some sort of holier-than-thou mission to be the bigger person. Every day she waves a hand through my door as she walks past and gives me a, “Hey there, Boss Man,” as she continues past, completely unaffected by the fact she almost ate me alive the other night. I can’t even bring myself to tell her to stop calling me that ridiculous name. If only her professional facade would crack again, just a little, it would give me a good reason to get even with her.
