spreading the wealth, er, tantrum...

Disclaimer: I know that this week's special is supposed to be directed to one person, entity, company, etc. However, I feel the need to spread the wealth. Since I could not narrow down my list, I'm going to list my top five, in one big ol' tantrum. Behold, the Blanket Open Letter...

Dear Everyone*:

You suck. Really, you do. I'm not exaggerating here.

But since that's way too broad of a declaration, I am sparing most of the world my angst and focusing on the five people/things that have managed to piss me off in the last seven days.

1) Mr. Bike Rider Without a Helmet: You are ridiculously stupid. Why in God’s name would you willingly ride a bike in Washington – where the drivers clearly suck – without something to protect your noggin? Do you really think you’re invincible? The idiot bike rider from Tuesday afternoon wins the Dumbest Biker Award for not only failing to wear a helmet, but failing to yield on oncoming traffic, thus being smashed into the hood of a Camry, right in front of my eyes.**

2) Mr. Mall Kiosk Sales Guy: Do I look like the kind of girl that wants to buy hair extensions? It’s not even real hair – it’s nasty plastic Barbie hair. “Don’t you want to make your hair look so much better?” the salesman asks as a walk by, not making eye contact. First, WTF? My hair looks bad now? Way to be a great salesman. Second, stop chasing me down the corridor of the mall. You’re embarrassing yourself.

3) Mrs. Unnamed Caller to my office: Yes, you’ve told me Obama is a terrorist. You’ve spewed your hard-core, right-wing, knee jerk conservatism at me to the point where I’m ashamed that we claim the same party affiliation. Now would you please stop calling me, insisting on talking to my boss? He’s not going to talk to you. Period. And, no, making up a new name and identity so the receptionist doesn’t realize who you really are does not make you smarter, or more likely to talk to me or my boss. It just makes you look like someone with multiple personality disorder.

4) Dear hair: I washed you last night, to get the nasty smoke smell out of my hair from the cigar bar last night. I conditioned you, detangled you, and generally treated you with lots o' TLC. Now, can you please tell me why in the hell you look and feel like pine straw this morning? Please?

5) And lastely, dearest MK: Why, oh why, are you wearing these sandals again:

They were so last season, and hideous last season at that. I told you last year that they looked like safety netting. Didn’t we agree that you would start trying to dress less like a homeless woman and more like, oh, I don’t know, a twenty-something starlet? (And PS - are those cutoffs? Come on. The last time cutoffs looked good was when Jennifer Grey wore them as Baby in Dirty Dancing.)


In closing, I hope that the five of you will aspire to ride more safely (with a helmet this time, retard), stop chasing me down mall hallways, stop calling me, lay smoother (yeah, hair, I'm talkin' to you!), and dress cuter.

That is all.
Tempe

_______________________________________________
*"Everyone" does not include my smartini gals. Or my husband. Or the cat.

**Said biker was fine. His bike was slightly mangled, but rideable, and he was not seriously hurt. The only injured party was me, since because I decided to be a freakin' good samaritan and stop, I was 30 minutes later getting home, and thus missed the last half hour of 90210 on the Soap Network.