Eff with my lunch, you eff with YOUR LIFE.

An open letter to the person who took the golf cart for over an hour during lunch:

Dear Golf Cart Hog,

First off, let me start by saying, I don't know who you are. I don't know your status within the Reveille family. You could be one of the managing directors, you could be Liz Murdoch herself. Let me also state, that I don't give a care.

In case you are either an intern, a newbie, or brain-dead, let me refresh your memory of our bungalow situation. Due to cutbacks that were never explained to us, NBC Universal has now limited us to one golf cart for 4 bungalows. I know, its preposterous. We sent out many company wide emails when this new downgrade was implemented, all of them clearly addressing the need to "restrict your golf cart use to reasonable time increments", "only use the golf cart when necessary", "let others know when you are taking the golf cart" and, most importantly "do NOT keep the golf cart for a long amount of time, especially during high volume hours, i.e. lunch time".

Golf Cart Hog, are you too good for multiple memos from Mr. Head of Worldwide Business and Operations himself, the omnipotent and just Lee Rierson? Shame on you. I didn't come into work today with a low grade fever, fuzzy sore throat and cramps to take your golf cart stealing bullshit.

Who is your boss GCH? Hmm? Who are they? Do you have to tolerate their "jokes"? Does their office continuously smell like farts and ketchup? Do they eat apples like they are making out with their sixth grade girlfriend? Do you have to tolerate their incessant talk about how they reached their burn on the stairmaster EVERY morning? I LIVE for my thirteen minutes of lunch, okay? The few sunny minutes of my day spent feeling the cool breeze through my hair as I leave my fake laughter and feigned interest behind, sailing on the golf cart and laughing with my friends. For those few moments, I'm no longer "Jeff Friedman's Office", I'm alive. And hungry. All morning I gaze longingly at the commissary menu, wondering what the "california chicken" is made of; wondering if the "split pea soup" has ham in it.

I can't remember a time I was as excited as I was this morning. The new menu had just been posted. Monday: Beef Mac and Cheese. BEEF MAC AND CHEESE YOU ASSHOLE. And because some selfish bastard commandeered the golf cart for the majority of lunch, I was not able to experience it.

Listen, and listen good GCH: If I find you, I will punch your teeth out.

Hope you enjoyed your lunch, fucker.


Ashley Walker
Office of Jeff Friedman