Stupid Ho

Dear Person(s) at work who enforce the pantyhose rule:

It is of great regret that I inform you that I will, from here on out, not abide by your pantyhose rule. While I understand a large majority of the women here might need to wear this contraption, those of us who work out and see the sun on a somewhat regular basis find this rule utterly ridiculous.

It is my understanding that management perceives nylons as a way to uphold our professional image. I, on the other hand, could care less about this so-called respectable image. Sure I realize these little bits of see-through material make my legs look pretty, but have you seen the majority of the men that work here. In fact, I implore you hire better-looking men. If management can comply with this request, I will reconsider my stance. Other than my girlcrush here at work, there is no need for me to impress any of my other colleges. Once more, I do not see clients on a frequent basis. Therefore exuding an atmosphere of professional dress is wasted on these buffoons.

I would also like to mention there is no similar ruling towards men. I do not see any language in the employee manual outlining which types of socks are appropriate for my male peers. Could this be seen as discrimination? My sweaty feet would like to know.

I am willing to offer up a dirty pair of ruined hose for the first male in this company to see what this horrid device is truly like. In order to truly walk in my shoes, I will also donate a pair of heels to the cause. Yes it’s true you might feel quite glamorous at 8:30, but please be patient and wait until 4:30 or 5:00 to tell me how you feel. Yes, I know you have a happy hour at 5:30 and your hose have a tear. Yes I realize you’re not attending a Hole concert, nor do you want to appear to be a tramp with holey stockings. This is part of the fun you have inflicted on me, and I want you to revel in it.

Therefore, from now on you will find me with naked legs. If you’re lucky, I will shave them. If my requests are not met, I will crumple up a pair of these stinky hose and hide them in your ficus tree so you can work with the fumes of a hundred stinky feet.

Yours truly,
The Melting Snowflake in workpod #52