Dear John, Who Works In My Building

Dear John, Who Works in My Building:

John, do you remember the other day, when we were both getting on the elevator together and it started to close on me? And you said, “Oops! It almost got you!” and I laughed a little bit. Well, I know you remember because now you think you’re a goddamn comedian. Listen, it was a nervous laugh. I was nervous that I was going to die a grisly death in an elevator shaft that people would send each other on twitter with captions like “lmao mondays.” It was a nervous laugh, John. I didn’t mean it. You have to stop replying all to department messages with the Success Kid meme and other things that were popular in 2007. And you have to stop doing funny facebook bits because your mom clearly doesn’t get them and is worried about you. Honestly, I’m very proud of you for signing up for that improv class and I will consider coming to your show, and if the moment we had in the elevator is what prompted you towards this step in personal growth then I’m glad it happened. We should all always be working on us more.  Okay, I take it back. I’m glad you said it. It was a great joke.

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