Dear lady on the bus,
We are in 21st century Montreal. All houses (especially in our part of town) have running water. Soap can be bought cheaply and pretty much everywhere. Deodorant is also a staple.
Two words: Use. Them.
Give the rest of us a break. That BO was not only pervasive, I'm sure it is quickly mutating into a whole new life form, one that could well soon decide to take over the universe. It's a scary thought.
Dear other lady on the bus,
Thanks for the look and the half smile. At least I know I'm not alone in my misery.
Dear man on the park bench,
Let me explain something to you...
Those benches are not made to fit only one person. When you insist on sitting in the middle of the bench you totally violate the unwritten rules of personal space. If you're in the middle of the bench I can't sit on the same bench to eat my lunch.
From now on, please choose one end or the other so that we might all have a relatively comfortable lunch hour.
Dear whoever you are at the cottage,
There really is no call for running a chainsaw at 8:00 am on a Saturday morning.
No valid reason exists, short of the fact that a tree is likely to fall onto your house in the next 15 minutes. Once, perhaps, but not every damn weekend, even in the rain.
Unlike you, I have a life. And this life dictates that I should be allowed to sleep in until at least 9:00 on a Saturday morning.
'Cause dude, I can always get out my own chainsaw, and it won't be to cut down trees. Have you ever seen the Texas Chainsaw Massacre movies?
Think about it.
Dear Company Client,
When I answer the phone and say someone is not there, it is because he or she is not there. Or at any rate, not there for you.
No amount of acting like an asshole will get you anywhere closer to them than their voicemail.
Deal with it. I have been known to bite - both literally and metaphorically.
Plus, I know bigger words than you do, and unlike you, I know their meaning.