messages

Dear Random Asshole on my Cell,

Who the hell are you and why are you calling me? Oh, it's because someone dialed your number from my phone seven times and you want to find out who it is. Well, I'm not telling you my name, I don't care how belligerent you are. You called me. Why don't you tell me who you are and where you live?

Ever hear of someone misdialing? Yeah, it was that. Your number happens to be one number off from my work number. Get the f--k over it and stop calling me. Or, better yet, block my number. It may be hard for you to believe, but I don't want to talk to you.

Love,
Nichole

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Dear Bitch in the BMW 325i,

Before you even start on me, I know you're female and here's why: 1) the only people in a Nordstrom's parking lot at 2:00 on a Friday afternoon are female and 2) I saw some crap in your car.

No, I wasn't spying on you, but you parked so freaking close to the line in the already super-compact space, I couldn't help but notice. I'm sure you didn't realize how close you were, since it was on the right side of your car, but did you see the car that is on your left? Yeah, that's called a SmartCar. It's like the smallest car on the market. You could hug the left line of your space and still have enough room to open your door all the freaking way.

So, in the future, please be a little more considerate of the people with whom you share this world. It will come back to you, I promise.

Love,
Nichole

The format for this post was inspired by a post done a long time ago by Nilsa. I don't know which one and I don't feel like finding it, but she's awesome and you should read anything she has to write anyway.