Scary

There's a woman at work. Let's call her 'T'. I don't know what she does, though she seems to stand around telling people to go to work, especially after lunch. She is scary.

She's a head taller than me. That makes her about 6 ft and some. And she is wide. She wears brown lipstick, lined by a black lip-pencil. Kohl'd eyes and pancaked face. Thankfully, no blush. She wears pinstriped shirts and black flat-front trousers - they look good on her - very professional-like.

Every time I see her, I mind-yell,"AAAAGH, Attack of the Pancake monster!"

The only thing she has ever said to me is, "Lunch break is over."

I wonder what I'd do if I actually had to have a conversation with her. Would I run screaming? Would I completely be mesmerised by her totally made-up face (in a totally non-sexual manner)?

I know I should look beneath the fake pink face and get to know the real her and not judge a person based on the amount of make up that they use. But I don't I'll ever have the chance to know her other than gawking from a distance 'cause tomorrow is my last day here.

One of these days, I'll write about this annoying girl who is in college with me.