Lady Coworker: Matt, I need help.
Me: What’s up
Lady Coworker: I was shooting the shit with my younger siblings, right?
Me: Yeah
Lady Coworker: And there’s like 30 of them, right*?
Me: Yeah
Lady Coworker: And the security guard asks me for my phone number.
Me: This is already a horror story.
Lady Coworker: And now he’s like… texting me. Every day.
Me: And you’ve come to the boy-est of white boys for advice. Smart.
Lady Coworker: What do I do?
Me: You follow me to the HR office is what you do.
Lady Coworker: Waaaait wait wait wait. Maybe we don’t need to escalate it right now.
Me: So this guy is texting you every day and you don’t like it.
Lady Coworker: Correct
Me: And you asked him to stop.
Lady Coworker: Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelllllll
Me: You need to tell him to stop.
Lady Coworker: But that would be so awkward!
Me: It’s already awkward.
Lady Coworker: Uggggh
Me: You need to establish a boundary and enforce it. And since that definitely won’t work, take screenshots and go to HR.
Lady Coworker: He asked me how many kids I have, and I don’t have any kids, I just have 90,000 younger siblings*. And I was like “Why do you wanna know?” and he was all “It’s important to our future” and I was like “get off my phone”
Me: Yeah get a screenshot of that and go to HR right now
Lady Coworker: …I deleted it
Me: Bro.
Lady Coworker: I’m gonna tell him to stop texting me now.
Me: Yeah you better get on that.
Author’s note: This is only kind of an exaggeration