Dear Crazy, Insane Cube Neighbor

Are you talking to your psychiatrist on the phone? Oh my God.

Is that a drawer full of marbles, hex nuts, ball bearings, and rocks? Are you looking for a quarter? Was it worth the ten minutes of effort?

When you slam the drawer that hard, doesn’t it rebound all the way back out?

Does the fire marshall know about the stacks of books, articles, and newspapers that has reduced the livable space of your cube to a three foot by three foot cocoon?

How can you afford an entire bottle of cologne/perfume per day? Oh, right, get the cheap stuff.

Are you eating cooked, aged banana peels for lunch?

Have you heard of beano?

Or that your ringtone wins most annoying and depraved sound of the year award?

Did you jailbreak your phone so it would ring for five minutes straight?

Did you know we have meeting rooms for meetings, conference rooms for conference calls, and bathrooms for clipping your toenails?

How is it that I can’t see you, but I know you are barefoot?

OK, my cube is full of your germs. You can go home now.