Notes I write in my head to co-workers and others throughout the day:
Lady in front of office:
I sometimes wonder if you are trying to break the record for the most complaints in one day. You complain if a fly lands on your desk, if it rains, if the sun shines, if it snows, if it doesn't snow, if you have a day off, if you have to work, if your daughter-in-law calls, if your daughter-in-law doesn't call, if your husband remembers your anniversary, if your husband doesn't remember your anniversary, if your co-worker leaves early, if your co-worker doesn't leave early. . .
I'm not sure I've ever heard one complain more than you. I'm not sure I've ever dreaded saying anything to anyone before because I imagine that person will take the last word of my sentence, no matter the word, and find a way to spin that word into a very long-winded, nasty rant that will make my ears bleed and wish I had been born deaf. My iPod and I have become very close friends thanks to your mouth and for that, well, I thank you.
To the man who spit chew in my general direction while I was taking a ribbon cutting photo for his business for the newspaper:
I suppose when you bought that can of Redman no one every advised you on the chew-spitting etiquette that goes along with it. For example, when talking to a woman who is taking photographs for your new business to run in the paper, you might want to avoid pulling the clump of chew out of your mouth squishing it in your fingers and putting it back in again.
You might also want to avoid spitting a wad of that chew at my feet while I attempt to write down your directions for exactly how your ribbon cutting cutline should read. Also, this is a ribbon cutting photograph, a one-time "free" advertisement for your business. Don't ask me to take three or four photos and then ask to see the photograph and then, when I tell you I will crop in on it (merely to shut you up), say "Just make it look good," and then spit on the ground at my feet again and walk away. Sorry, I don't remember you ever signing my paycheck and if you ever do, I hope you didn't dribble chew spit on it in the process.
Also, next time you are in a photo for the newspaper, you might want to wear a shirt that doesn't look like you just came out of a mud-pit.