Dear nice man on the train,
If, upon viewing your reflection in your bathroom mirror, you find that
your hair has transformed itself into a shiny shellac helmet in which
others can probably see their reflections and which can probably take a
mace hit or two, do not pass go, do not collect $200, and, above all, do
not leave the house that way. While I appreciate your thoughtfulness in
being willing to serve as an impromptu mirror, people can wait till the end
of their commute to check themselves. Think of yourself first. And think
of me. And my pain.
Your new best friend.
----
Dear nice person several seats ahead of me,
If you don't wish me to use your
assuredly adorable child as a projectile, then I recommend that you
muzzle said child to prevent the continued emission of high pitched,
repetitive noises currently disturbing the entire train car.
Your not so
friendly neighborhood grouch.
[Originally posted on June 12, 2012, at 8:50am and 7:13pm.]
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