If My Work Day Was A Movie...

So I came to the conclusion today that I never, EVER x 100,000,000 want to work for more women than men... There is a study that needs to be done, without me as the specimen that working with too many women causes you to want to kill yourself... Example:

Today I'm sitting at my desk, minding my business, reading the Enquirer online, I know, very good of me to be up on current events. Dawn (Satan) comes over to my desk and asks me if I've started working on my spreadsheet yet, to which I reply, "I'm on call right now, because I'm the only teller right now so I don't want to get started on something, have to stop, and lose my place, so I figure I can work on it later like after lunch..." She replied "now would be the perfect time to get started on it, because there's not many people here, blah blah blah..." So I finally lashed out for the little bit... I looked down at Viktoriya's desk and she's looking at shoes for Christ sake! Did Dawn say anything to her? OF COURSE NOT! Why you might ask? BECAUSE THEY STICK TOGETHER LIKE GLUE! She said she gets on Viktoriya's case too! I said, "oh really? When is that? When I'm at lunch for 10 minutes a day?"

There's so much estrogen here, that the women get away with everything... Andrea was 35 minutes late to work on Saturday, what happened? NOTHING! My first Saturday I worked I was late 15 minutes... What happened? I got a written warning! Second time it happened, got written up again... What happened to Andrea, after 4 times of being late a grand total of probably 2 hours? NOT A DAMN THING AT ALL!!! I'm the only one that gets written up, I'm the only one that gets in trouble for being 5 - 15 minutes late, when it doesn't even matter, and all of this because I'm a guy... Therefore, I decided to remake a movie:

Instead of:

I would call my movie:

This is my day... I work with a group of girls that bitch and bitch about their husbands, shoes, clothes, birds, dogs, fiancee's, living with their parents, etc, etc, etc... Then I'll have construction guys come in and say, "wow, lucky guy getting to work with all these ladies!" Oh yeah? Lucky? Lucky would be if a guy came in with a sawed off shotgun to rob us and killed just me! That'd be lucky! Or maybe if I couldn't hear, that would be good too! The ladies get away with anything, and the solo male gets screwed! Typical! Someone please save me! We'll See Ya!

800,001,256 males feel for me, but can't do a damn thing because they're in the same situation...