Practically working in a haunted house
Dear Diary,
I was outside enjoying the nice view of the parking lot and bus garage in the distance, when a shifty man wearing maroon track pants and a hockey jersey approached. He claimed that he worked here but left his security badge at home and could one of us let him in.
A flimsy excuse if ever there was.
I shook my head no, but Collin shrugged and said sure. I gave him a Very Stern Look, which he either didn’t see or ignored, and he let the homicidal wanderer into our ONCE SAFE place of employment. He couldn’t have, oh I don’t know, PATTED HIM DOWN first?
Now there’s some jilted ex-employee (or homeless cave dweller with a data processor rape fantasy which he’s trying to bring to fruition) roaming the halls of this building and I feel so unsafe. I can’t believe Collin would endanger his fellow co-workers like that. I told Kim immediately, hoping she would say, “Oh, well that’s grounds for termination” but she shrugged and said, “Hmm. Oh well. Next time, just let the guards handle it.” Then she went back to work. Just like that.
Well, I hope she’s his first victim. And while he’s garroting her, I’ll slip away into the night.
Later, I cautiously journeyed to one of the other areas of our floor to snatch Hershey Kisses from the secretary’s desk. (How do they make the hot cocoa ones taste so much like hot cocoa?! It really is quite remarkable.) I speed-walked back, craning my neck around cubicle walls before nervously rounding corners. At one point, my heart exploded when I heard jingling next to me, but then I realized it was just the change in my pocket.
It’s killing me that I’m blind to the stranger’s location. What if he’s taken a hostage upstairs? Or wiring a bomb in the kitchen? Or fucking a toilet paper roll in the bathroom? These are things I desperately need to know.
Just now, as I’m typing this, one of the cleaning people wheeled a giant garbage can down the hallway and I lurched back in my chair. Kim laughed at me, cruelly. She also suggested that I get medicated. “You have insurance now,” she reminded me.
All of this after I JUST had dialogue with Henry about my need for a butterfly knife.
Later,
Destined to be Murdered.
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