Tuesday, April 5, 2011

A Love Letter to Five Assholes


Dear woman at my kids daycare who wears such an ungodly amount of awful perfume, I can literally taste it even minutes after you have dropped off your kid, as your stink bomb of lilacs and cheap drugstore swill hangs in the air over the sign in book in the lobby: You're an asshole. I know that you didn't KNOW I was teetering on the brink of a full blown migraine the other day, as I hurried my son into class, trying to sign him in and get back home to my dark room, dark chocolate and bottle of Excedrin Migraine as big as my head, as fast as possible, but I am still blaming you for that horrible, burning smell you left behind, which finally pushed my throbbing headache over the edge into Migraine Hell Town. I am sure you didn't know any of this when you woke up that morning, stood in front of your bathroom mirror and hosed yourself with this "fragrance" I am sure can only be called "Funeral Home" or "Death of Passersby" or something equally catchy and appealing. But still, you're an asshole, and I blame you. And I hope you get diarrhea. Explosive diarrhea. In a traffic jam, stuck in your car with your own old lady stench, violently shitting your pants.

Dear 19 year old punk ass behind the cigarette counter at Fry's Saturday night,
You're an asshole. I wanted to know which brand of American Spirits were technically considered Lights so I could buy those, and go home to drink and smoke myself into a 9 hour stupor and forget about the awful week I had. I did NOT want to have a discussion with you over how much you hate American Spirits and how you ONLY smoke one kind of cigarette, and how bad these taste and blah blah blah. I just wanted to buy my little convenient box of death and be on my way. Thank you for loudly voicing your 19 year old, expert opinion. You shouldn't be smoking anyway, you're too Goddamn young to have any problems worthy of slowly killing yourself over, and if you're still smoking because you "enjoy it" and not because you absolutely hate life, then you're now stupid and an asshole. And I hope you get diarrhea too. In front of all your cool 19 year old smoker friends at some stupid backyard house party, while drinking your Pabst Blue Ribbon and bitching about your parents.

Dear next door neighbor who is always leaving notes on peoples cars about where they can and cannot park, screaming at small children, and generally being a crazy ass: You're an asshole. I really, super duper appreciated the awesome, misspelled note you left on my windshield the other day about how I cannot park where I was parked, and threatening to next time either block my car in or have it towed. Ummm listen genius, I don't know how well you thought out your scare tactic there, but blocking me in really fucks YOU over too. I mean, you would have to find some way to block me in on all 4 sides, seeing as how I could always drive over the sidewalk and consequently your lawn to get out of a 3 sided block....I don't know how many cars you have, but if you are capable of this, I am excited to see you pull it off. And, even if you found enough cars, you would have to leave them there long enough to really impact my life. Not sure if you've noticed, but I DON'T HAVE A LIFE. So they would be sitting there a looooong time. And having my car towed? I am not even going to get into how stupid a thing that is to say. But I hate you, and I hope you get herpes. Ya, HERPES! Not diarrhea like the other fuckers in this love letter. Herpes. Just you. Because I hate you.

Dear Middle Eastern Telemarketer who calls me every fucking day: You are such an asshole. I understand that you don't really speak English, and that you don't know me that well, so you have no idea what the fuck I'm saying when I cuss you out every time you call, and you have no idea that I am a doula and a student midwife, so sometimes, when you call at 10 a.m. I have just gone to bed after an extremely long birth, and I am trying to pack as much sleep as I can into the time I have before I pick my screaming, fighting, unruly children up from school and have to deal with them for five hours until they go to bed and I can too. I know you probably don't know any of this, but you're an asshole. Not only do you always call at the most inconvenient time, but you're always so pushy and hard to understand. Plus, it is always so fucking loud in the background of wherever you are. What the hell do you guys do all day, have fucking Polka Raves? Seriously, quiet the fuck down if you're going to be making annoying calls to strangers. I hope you and all your loud friends get super explosive, spicy curry diarrhea.

And last but not least, to the guy that I was nice enough to let over the on freeway this morning, even when I really, really, really didn't want to, because traffic had sucked enough so far, and finally nobody was in front of me anymore, but I did let you over for the sake of freeway karma. You're an asshole. Not only did I slow down, and kindly wave you over, smiling fakely and trying to be nice and neighborly and all that shit, in hopes that the next time I really needed to get on the freeway some dick in a Prius would let me over too, but I gave you that sweet little traffic buddies head nod, as you pulled in front me, as if to say "Go ahead. I'm your friend" The LEAST you could have done was wave back and maybe throw in a little fake smile to show that you sort of appreciated the super nice and selfless gesture I just made for you, especially since I really really didn't want to make it. Not only did you not do that (the simplest and most expected of traffic courtesies) you then proceeded to ride your fucking brakes the whole Goddamn way through the on ramp to the other freeway I needed to get home, when the on ramp was one lane, and there was no one in front of you. I really appreciate you making sure I didn't take the on ramp at some crazy dare devil speed like, oh say 45 miles mph, and I really loved watching your stupid little brake lights come on any time we got over 30 mph, because, well, they're just so fucking pretty! You're an asshole, and I wish the worst possible diarrhea on you. Diarrhea when you're fucking your stupid wife or stupid girlfriend, or stupid whatever you fuck. Just as you get into it, I hope you have the most violent, explosive and awful diarrhea, and you cannot get into the bathroom in time.

Love always,
Me

No comments:

Post a Comment