Dear Coworker in the Cube Across From Mine,

You aren't working tomorrow because you are going to a particularly geeky tournament; to protect the "innocent," we'll say it's a chess tournament. Good for you. However, in so doing you are bailing out on a very important meeting with one of your clients, and apparently volunteered me to cover for you--without asking me. This presumptuous move is bad enough on it's own, but when you consider the fact that I am having an MRI tomorrow morning and am somewhat claustrophobic, meaning that in the past they have sedated me for this test, it's worse: now I can't go home post-brain exam and pass out in a haze of apathy, but in fact have to be unsedated and then go straight to work to spend all day in a meeting about topics on which I am clueless. Thanks a lot.

Hoping You Are Check-Mated and Eliminated From the Tournament,
R

PS Having to dress up on Casual Friday is un-American, and in case you haven't noticed, we're fighting a war here. What would Gen. Petraeus think?

PPS Dear Gen. Petraeus, I love your last name. It makes it seem like you're some bad-ass Roman conqueror. When you get a chance, there's a coworker of mine who might need a visit to the Colosseum, if you get my drift. And I think you do.