We all have workplace horror stories. Mine was exceptionally gory, and is not for the faint-hearted...

The insurance company where I worked as an Internet developer was the biggest company I'd ever been employed by. I was proud of my new job, and happy and excited at the thought of settling in and spending the rest of my working life there.
It was great money. Great security, and a wonderful pension plan to look forward to when retirement loomed in a few decades. And I enjoyed the company of my immediate co-workers, although there were differences from the start.

I was a single mother with an eight year old son, no college background, and had been living between bouts of paycheck-to-paycheck at smaller businesses; there were sporadic episodes where we lived at the mercy of public aid and food stamps. With the exception of my boss, who was slightly older than I, our team was predominantly twenty-something and single college grads with a penchant for impulsively trying out different 'happy hour' spots after work, every other afternoon; this was something I simply could not work into my schedule without advance planning and cooperation with my babysitter.

Despite these things, this job was the answer to our prayers. Not only was I to be paid well for my skills and experience in a field I loved, but I anticipated beginning long friendships here (being the friendly worker I was). Just as importantly, I expected - and needed - to find my place, to simply 'belong' and be valued.

Most of my co-workers, including my boss, were locals. Although we'd never met before outside of the workplace, we had common interests and frequently found we shared a lot: favorite restaurants, schools we'd attended, parks we spent leisure time at on weekends, yearly events we enjoyed.
Within a week, I felt accepted and liked by all of my co-workers, and had easily joined them for daily lunch-break jaunts.

It was probably about the fourth month that the disparities between me and my co-workers became more awkwardly apparent. They were inexplicably resistant to anyone who wasn't cut from the single and youthful college party 'cloth', no matter how hard I tried to assure them I was still fun and youthful, even in my thirties.

I was just plain ... older.

And a single mother.

I had no formal college education (although my 20 years of experience had landed me the position despite the missing sheepskin).

Oh my God, worse... I lived in a TRAILER. There were low-voiced

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