Loose Pants and Loose Morals

Dear Teenage Boy:

When you wear your pants so loose that they threaten to fall on the ground unless you walk in a wide-gaited, stiff legged manner with your hands in your pockets feebly clutching them to your hips, then I see you walking that way and think that you are trying to shoplift something by shoving it down your pants.

Accompanying your friend, who is buying only deodarant, to the checkout and then doing a pee-pee dance as you stand there is just weird.

Please go home.



Dear Bitchy Lady

You came through the Express-10 items or less checkout with 26 items. Yes. I counted. I did not send you to a regular line. Instead I smiled and asked how your day was. Sneering and replying "Busy. Will this take much longer?" is not the way to win friends and influence people. I wish you had bought bread so I could have smushed it. Instead it appears you were buying party items. Get your party hat on and cheer the fuck up.

Next time I won't be so nice and your wait will be longer.

Dear Late-Night Customer:

Waiting until ten minutes after the store closing announcement to idle your way through the checkout is bad enough. But please, do not try to lighten the mood by mentioning how tired I look. I put your bread in the bottom of the bag.

You're welcome.

Dear RBC Bank:
Please do not send me a message saying money has been deposited into my account when it has not. It was a long walk home when I realised I couldn't pay the taxi driver.

Dear Neighbourhood Drunk:

I realise it is confusing to you, being so drunk, that the number for the ambulance and the number for the taxi are not one and the same. I know that social services pays for ambulance rides. However I don't believe it was their intention for you to use the ambulance service to ferry yourself and your falling-down drunk buddy from a party back to your place.

I snickered and imagined the two of you buggering each other as you told off the ambulance driver for not knowing where your house is. And then I pictured you waking up in the morning, still hungover, wondering why your ass was so sore and looking at your still comatose friend askance.
That cheered me up a little

Dear Phone Company:

Not everyone has cell phones. Believe it or not! You could actually still be in business if you weren't such assholes as to cut off the service to all the town's public phones. Three phones. Zero dial tones. Good job.



Most hilarious purchase of the evening: 3 large bags of chips, a box of popcorn, 4 2 litre bottles of soda, foaming hair mousse and the biggest box of condoms I've ever seen. Purchased by an attracitve but obviously middle-aged couple.
Swinger party? WTF are they going to do with the hair mousse?

Most depressing purchase of the evening: Mom of three, every item was a Nestle product. Except the mayo and nitrate filled sandwich meat. Apparently it's not enough to buy products made from child labour, she's also trying to kill her own kids with saturated fats and nitrates.

Have A Great Day!