More Dear John-ing

I'm annoyed. Again. So you get this:

Dear Lady in the Bathroom,

I heard you peeing when I walked in. I saw your pants at your ankles under the stall door, so there's no denying that you did indeed take a piss and--if you didn't want to stain your pants after--then you wiped. A process which then requires a decent human being to wash their hands. Which you did not do. You are an arrogant, repulsive, staph infection-spreading mongrel and I wish your next job review took into consideration the fact that you subject everyone around you to this filth.

You're fired!

***

Dear Black Jeep Liberty Driver,

I get it, you need an extra 3 feet of space on the driver's side of your car to avoid having another asshole park so close to you that you can't get back into your car. I know the feeling, since every day you insist on parking your monstrosity of a vehicle so close to my little compact that you're practically on top of it. Did you happen to notice that car next to you as you scratched the paint pulling into your compact parking space? How is it that you end up parking next to me and only me EVERY. SINGLE. DAY??? Eventually I could end up impaling myself on the gear shift from hopping over from the passenger side, and I will sue you for every last red cent you have if that happens.

I wish your next job review was also based on this juvenile and arrogant behavior. I wonder if you're the same bitch in the bathroom. If so, you're doubly fired!

***

Dear Next Door Neighbor,

I know you're young. You probably don't know what it's like to have to get up early to go to work and earn a living because you get to mooch off your crazy uncle or lover or whoever that is you live with. I'd love to spend my days and nights doing nothing but smoking pot and otherwise being a worthless piece of shit too. Actually, no I wouldn't, because my life rocks. Except when it's late at night and you finally drag your lazy ass home from wherever the hell you've been, stomping up the stairs directly behind my bedroom, having the loudest conversation on this side of the planet with whatever loser friend you've brought along, and generally being an inconsiderate jerk. How is it you manage to wake me up nearly every single night with this behavior? Why can't you just inhale so much THC that your brain finally implodes? Please? I'm asking nicely.

Why haven't you been evicted yet? Stay off my roof and keep your trap shut. And learn to walk without crashing into the floor like it's running away from you. Asshole.

***

Dear Xenon Headlight Manufacturers and the Car Companies Who Utilize Them:

Why is it that your lights are so bright that aliens can see them from space? I understand that in the middle of nowhere, out in places where SUVs may actually serve some sort of purpose, it might get a little dark. That's why there are high beams on cars. But when you're driving in the city, which is NEVER dark, there is absolutely no need to melt the paint off the surrounding cars with the intensity of your headlights. Not to mention the burns my retinas have suffered.

I would suggest focus testing these lights on the inventors. Force them to stare at these lights for about 5 seconds so they too can enjoy permanent blindness. We'll all be better off then.

***

Dear Store Front Owner with Strobe Lights in the Window,

Are you holding a rave inside your store? No? Then do you know what you're doing with that irritating light? You're distracting the casual driver innocently passing by your store, creating a huge potential for an accident. Do you know what an accident that you caused will cost you? More than what your shitty little store grosses in a year. You know what would be cheaper and more effective than a seizure-inducing blinky light? A lit sign over your store that actually advertises who and what you are. Because I have no idea what the name of your store is, or even what you sell. I just know that I hate you.

Unless what you sell is the aforementioned blink lights. If that's the case, do some focus testing on yourself and see how you like it.