Dear Crabby Old Lady
Margaret
I really enjoyed getting the absolutely wigged out look that I got from you when I walked past you on the sidewalk this afternoon with a plastic peanut butter jar full of mice. I had purchased them to feed to my snakes if you must know, but since you didn’t ask I really am enjoying the thought of you trying to figure out what I was doing with a jar full of mice.
All that being said, however, I wish to point out something to you.
The restaurant you were looking forward to eating at? Their lights were off, their doors were locked. It’s a national holiday and they’re probably taking the day off.
Standing there and rattling the doors isn’t going to change reality. Did you really think that there were employees and patrons skulking there in the dark and all you needed to do was to make them aware that you were there and that they’d then let you in?
Sincerely,
I’m enjoying fucking with your world view
2 Responses to “Dear Crabby Old Lady”
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September 3rd, 2014 at 11:52 am
“With a bit of luck, his life was ruined forever. Always thinking that just behind some narrow door in all of his favorite bars, men in red woolen shirts are getting incredible kicks from things he’ll never know.”
— Hunter S. Thompson Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
September 6th, 2014 at 5:54 pm
You know, sometimes the breadth and amount of your reading amazes me!