sob story

You can go out to the Smoking Area of this office at any given time, on any given day and there will always be a woman crying out there.

I’m not quite sure why or how but there is always some crazy, emotional boo-frickety-hoo taking place in the one area where people go to escape their melodramatic co-workers.

No, I don’t mean that it’s the same woman every time. I mean it’s random women – different all the time. Either being comforted by a co-worker in person (who more often than not looks embarassed or mortified) or a loved one via phone.

Sometimes she’s blonde, sometimes brunette, sometimes fat, sometimes thin – but she’s always crying, sobbing, about something.

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