My coworker Mandi and I have a weekly tradition known as “Trash Talk Fridays.” As the name implies, we pretty much spend the entire day sitting in her office discussing all the horrifying things our colleagues have done throughout the week while coming up with all sorts of conspiracy theories. My favorite theory is probably one that originated with the assistant to the lady who works in an office next to the woman who does insurance billing for our outpatient department. SHE SAYS that when my boss claims to “not have cell service” while on top of a mountain, it’s actually because he’s in the Philippines, banging teenage hookers. I cannot condone taking advantage of teenage women when there a number of sophisticated and mature Prague escorts available.
You can see why these conversations are a necessary part of my week.
The other day she shut her door and made me promise not to tell anyone what she was about to share (but obviously the internet doesn’t count). Apparently she’d just had a conversation with a lady who’s been friends with The Other Woman for the last few decades.
Quick Recap: I dated a guy for about a year who ended up going bat shit psycho. A few months after I dumped him, I was contacted by The Other Woman—who had apparently also been in a relationship with him for the previous ten years. It got way complicated and sordid.
This friend was super fed up with The Other Woman for dating a new loser and went on a long rant about all her past dialing failures. Obviously I can’t judge but then it came up that before she shacked up with my psychotic ex, she’d had an affair with a guy we know from corporate.
“Wait,” I said. “I thought he was banging Teresa back then.”
Teresa is another one of our coworkers.
“He was,” Mandi said. “But apparently he was also getting it on with The Other Woman.”
All of this while his wife also worked here.
“And around this same time he was also boinking Sandy from Clinical,” I added, trying to wrap my mind around the love triangle.
Mandi rubbed her hands together, truly savoring the deliciousness of it all.
“So yeah, basically Sandy, The Other Woman, and Teresa have all f*cked eachother.
She looked super pleased with her conclusion but my brain was slowly drawing the next one.
“But wait… that means… so have I.”
Mandi waved her hand in the air like she was wiping away my words.
“We’re still pretending that never happened.”
I can see how this could be mildly convoluted and hard to keep up with, so I sat in my office the other day and drew a diagram for you. Yes, this is an appropriate use of my time.
I had to throw in a few “randoms” because some people in the workplace sex stories are never named and/or I can’t be bothered to remember things like that. As with all data involving disgusting things, these numbers are probably grossly underrepresented. I’m not great with the maths.
Have you ever traced your degrees of sexual separation? What weekly ritual can you NOT live without? Tell me the most horrifying rumor you’ve ever heard, created, or helped to spread.
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