MV is getting shipped off to the Schaumburg branch, which means I'll have a new partner in crime at work. I think (fingers crossed) that it will be Gigi. I can work with Gigi; Gigi and I can get shit done and, more importantly, have a good time together while accomplishing aforementioned shit. However, yesterday I heard that our supervisor was still interviewing for the position. And that she was interviewing (are you ready for this?) TWO BOYS.

I can't work with a boy. I can't train a boy, I can't depend on a boy, and I can't have the same "wow-we're-ovulating-at-the-same-time" camaraderie with a boy. There are so many things wrong with having a boy co-worker that I barely know where to start. But let me try.

1. Our bosses are men. And I don't want to get all sexist on your ass, but it's against the order of things to have two male bosses and then one female assistant and one... boy... assistant. Our bosses can't charm a boy the way that they can charm us females. They can't introduce a boy assistant to their clients without silently admitting that the system got fucked up somewhere along the way. See, we do things "Mad Men" style at the bank (sans the Scotch). We females sit in front of our guy bosses, and we laugh at their jokes, and we, let's be honest, basically become their work wives, and there's no fucking way that some boy is going to be able to slip into that shoe. It'll just be wrong, and it won't work for anyone- the boy included.

2. Me and my new MV replacement, we're going to be spending a lot of time together. Eight hours a day, to be exact. And if this MV replacement is a boy, we're going to have the following boy/girl problems:

2A. I won't be able to talk about my inner-most feelings and female body issues with a boy. And I need that in a co-worker, I just do. How do you talk about menstruation leakage with a boy? About sore boobs and scenarios involving John Cusack, circa 1998, and an empty, clean but still sleazy, motel room? You don't. I won't. And, heaven help me, work is where I get MY THERAPY.

2B. There's a very real possibility that this BOY might develop a crush on me. Let's be honest here, I'm pretty desirable. Not because I'm super hot and put out or anything, but because I'm so damn funny and interesting and full of great stories that don't at all pointlessly meander into nothingness. It's happened before at work. Boys who work at the bank just like me. And I don't have time to be dealing with my closest coworker lusting after me. I have stuff to get done. And that shit's tiring.

3. Boys are lazy. Don't try to argue, they are. And I'm not picking up the slack for some lazy boy. I'm just not doing it.

4. There are things you have to worry about when you work with a boy, as opposed to working with a girl. You have to worry about cleavage (well, not me specifically, but girls in general) and balancing the right line between smart and pretty. You have to worry about whether or not you can be honest about the big poop you have to take. You have to worry about your freesia body spray not smelling like ass. About having a boy judge you based on your girlness and vice versa. About acting like a bitch or a cunt. About all of those normal attitude things that another girl will just brush off while a boy- a boy will automatically attribute to PMS. And, again, that shit's tiring.

So I'm not sure what will happen if Gigi doesn't get the job and some punk boy shows up instead. I have him already pictured in my head as some blond boy doofus with spiky hair and a penchant for trying to get away with things just by winking. This imaginary boy scares the crap out of me, and I may possibly scare the crap out of him, what with all my adjusting of my imaginary cleavage. It'll be a problem. Work is hard enough- give me a girl, for chrissakes. Someone that I can ovulate with, someone who won't judge me by my ass or try to flirt their way out of problems. Someone who I can be myself with, someone to whom I can say, without feeling ashamed, "Hold my calls- I have to spend some quality time in the big stall."