When I came into the office this morning, I noticed a sort of general feeling of unfriendliness, and since several of you have called me a “dirty son of a bitch” to my face, I knew I must have done something wrong at the office Christmas party.
The office manager called me from the hospital today and as this is my last day, I’d like to take this way of apologizing to all of you. I would prefer speaking to everyone personally, but all of you seem to go deaf and dumb whenever I try to talk to you.
First, to our dear and beloved boss, I am sorry for all the things I called you Friday afternoon. I’m very much aware that your father is not a baboon, nor your mother a Chinese whore. Your wife is a delightful woman, and my story of you buying her for fifty cents in Tijuana was strictly a figment of my imagination. Your children are undoubtedly yours too. About the water cooler incident, you’ll never know how badly I feel about it, and I hope you didn’t hurt your head when they were trying to get the glass jug off.
To Mary, I express my deepest regrets. In my own defense, I must remind you that you seemed to enjoy our little escapade on the stairway as much as I did until the banister broke and we fell eight feet to the second floor landing. In spite of the rupture you incurred when I landed on top of you, I am sure you will admit that when we landed it was one of the biggest thrills you have ever had.
Sam, you old cuss, you’ve just got to forgive me for that little prank I played on you. If I had known you were goosey, I’d have never done it. It would have been a lot worse if that lady hadn’t been standing right under the window you jumped through. She really broke your fall a lot. People have been killed falling three stories.
Gene, I regret telling the fireman it was you who turned in the false alarm. But, of course, I had no way of knowing they would make such a bad report of it. Those fire hoses sure have a lot of pressure, don’t they? And boy, the water is sure cold!
Don, I know how you must feel about me. Opening the door to the broom closet suddenly must have startled you and Millie quite badly, and to think how hard you bumped your chin on the shelf when you bent over to pull up your pants — it makes me sick. We’ll have to get together for dinner some night after the dentist finishes your plates.
Nancy, the only excuse I can offer for stealing all your clothes and hiding them when I found you passed out in the ladies’ room, is that I was drunk. Also, I want you to know I was very embarrassed when I couldn’t remember where I hid them and you had to go home in that old sofa cover. Running your falsies up the flagpole was a bit too much, but like I said, I was a little drunk.
To all of you, I am sorry. Setting Jan’s panties on fire seemed funny at the time, and it makes me sad to hear that her husband is divorcing her because of it. Urinating in everyone’s drink was in bad taste, and not telling them about it until all the drinks were gone was even worse.
Now that I have apologized to all of you and know that I am forgiven, I will do my darndest to come to the picnic…
