To the bull-frog voiced woman in line behind me at the Post Office:
You are literally beating the inquisitiveness out of your son. When he is older he won’t even remember how to do it.
To the women in the red Cadillac on 7th street:
The stop sign is for cars, too.
The the man with the camera who casually littered onto my corner:
Are you as worthless as you treat the world around you?
To the sweet telemarketer from Columbus, Ohio:
I’m sorry I’m being short with you; it’s not your fault. You’re the first nice person I’ve met today