Correspondence from the surreal side

Dear woman on the metro.

No no no no. NO.

One does not wear a strapless turquoise summer dress with a fuschia bra.

On especially does not wear a strapless turquoise summer dress with a fuschia bra that has straps. A bra that is mostly OUTSIDE the dress.

That is just wrong on so many levels that I can't even begin to explain.

Plus it's only about 6 degrees above freezing.

Sartorially,

Jazz

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Dear colleague from that other office.

I was volunteered to take care of the mailing lists for all the offices. I would've passed on that, but there you go. So, a while ago you sent me your list. Your stupid fucking mailing list. That was set up with one field for "Mr. John Doe". Who the HELL puts the salutation, first name and last name in the same field in a database? Oh yeah, you.

And who, instead of adding a second address field, puts part of the address in the name field if there isn't enough space in the address field? Oh yeah, you.

And who, rather than putting a field for, say, people's titles, puts it after the MR.! JOHN! DOE! in the damn name field? Oh yeah, YOU!

Do you have any freaking idea how much annoyance goes into fixing this shit?

And now, you tell me, "I did an overhaul of the list and am sending it back to you". And did you work in the version I sent you? The one I had put into excel to you could import it into your database software easily? The one I spent FUCKING hours on to fix (sorry 'bout the grammar issues here, but I'm pissed off)????

No, you used the old stupid thing and I've been working on it all day to fix it.

AGAIN.

And you still have at least 15 names that are in the thing twice. Do you even CHECK the damn thing?

I will not do this again. You do it my way or I'll rip your dam head off. Are we clear?

Aggressively,

Jazz

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Dear Asshat,

I imagine by 5:30 you were having the time of your life imagining the havoc you wreaked with your stupid ass stunt of calling in a bomb threat in the subway at 5:10 on a Thursday evening.

At Berri metro station no less, the metro line hub. You paralyzed three metro lines.

THREE YOU FUCKING MORON!

As well as vehicular traffic on the outside, as they had to set up a security perimeter.

You managed to paralyze downtown Montreal on a Thursday evening, complicating the life of commuters, transit workers, the cops. For what? A suitcase full of rocks or something of that nature.

Have you any idea how long it took me to get my ass home? I was having dinner with friends and had to take three buses that were bursting at the seams to get there!

And I was a lucky one - it only took me two and a half hours rather than the usual 50 minutes. I don't live far from downtown or on the south shore. Traffic was hell until late evening it seems. The subway started up again at 9:00 pm. I suppose you're proud of yourself you lowlife little prick. Vermin like you... no, I could rant for hours about the nastiness that you are, but I won't.

Except to say, I hope they find you, you prick. And then give you to us commuters. We'll see that you do not live long enough to ever do something like this again.

Hatefully,

Jazz

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Dear Bus Driver,

No I am not going to swipe my transit card. Because I'm so damn late, my connection time is over and I am not going to use another ticket for the last leg of my journey.

As I told you, I am over an hour late for my dinner with my friends, I didn't manage to get home and change from my work clothes, I'm tired, I'm annoyed, I've spent the day working on a dumbass mailing list and I'm fucking hormonal.

Believe me, you do not want to mess with me. I don't care if you have 50 lbs on my, I will not hesitate to take you down child, rip your arm off and beat you with the bloody end. And take immense pleasure in it.

Do. Not. Doubt. Me.

At this point in my day, I can crush you like an ant.

Funny how you took one look at me and let me by. Age you're at, I probably reminded you of your mom.

This is good.

Lesson learned: Do NOT piss off an already highly annoyed menopausal woman. You cannot win.

Teachingly,

Jazz

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Dear lady with the beemer,

The south side of the street was closed. Both lanes were diverted in to the two lane north side of the street. Despite the huge "NO STOPPING" signs, you still stopped in front of the dry cleaners to drop off your stuff - or maybe to pick it up, whatever.

Your stopping completely blocked traffic, but did you give a damn? No, cause we all know it's all about you. Thankfully the honking and swearing penetrated your thick skull and you eventually realized, once you were out of the car and on the sidewalk, that this might not be the most brilliant thing you'd ever done. Maybe the chemicals from the hair dye have dried out your brain? You are a moron.

Scathingly,

Jazz,

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Dear Mother Nature,

It's June 1. I have yet to pull out my summer tops and dresses, sandals and flirty skirts.

You are a bitch and I hate you.

Resentfully,

Jazz