My Love Letter to Five Assholes
To the dude that I smile and wave on and allow to cut in front of me in evening rush hour traffic while I’m racing to pick up my daughter before daycare closes and they call child welfare on me for not being there on time and then charge me one dollar for every minute I’m late which is totally money I could be using to pay for sappy romantic comedy rentals to help me forget my own black abyss of loneliness I feel… when you don’t give me a fake little thank you wave back acknowledging the fact I could have let you sit there and die but didn’t, that I anointed you the chosen one and I let you go ahead of me, I end up wishing herpes on you. You’re a fucking asshole and you irritate me to no end. I put on a fake happy face and a fake happy wave to let you in so the least you could do is fake something back at me. How hard is it to fucking fake a nice friendly thank you wave? I’m sure your wife or girlfriend fakes some things so maybe you can get a lesson from her. I feel so cheap and used when you don’t wave back and it’s not like I even got a free dinner and a movie out of it. Asshole.
To the clerk at the convenience store that I just bought a pack of sugar free gum from who after I was done didn’t thank me for my purchase or tell me to have a nice day but instead I thanked for my purchase which pretty much means I thanked you for allowing me to shop in your rude shitty convenience store. You’re an asshole. Again I felt cheap and used. Thank your customers – even if they just buy a pack of gum and especially if they have a polite autopilot instinct to say thank you even if you don’t. Shit I was raised in the south. I tell the cat thank you for allowing me to pet it. I actually gave you money for something – tell me fucking thank you. This type of inhumane embarrassment and treatment is probably why people get pissed off and rob so many convenience stores. Just saying. Not that I would ever do that or wish that on you. I’m not that evil. Herpes though, I do wish herpes on you. Asshole.
To the man who sees me walking with my small daughter and lets the door shut right in my face and doesn’t hold it open as a common courtesy because I don’t know, maybe I don’t look like a 10 pound sports illustrated swimsuit model, or perhaps I forgot I was wearing my super top secret invisible super hero outfit, you’re an asshole. I mean I’m pretty fucking ninja but I’m not that ninja with a 4 year old hanging off me. Not only are you an asshole but I have a pretty good feeling you have a small penis and will probably burn in hell. I mean really, why else would you be so bitter and rude towards another person? Evidently common courtesy is directly related to penis size in men. I realize I am an independent, capable woman who does not need to be coddled or have a man do things for her but this is just rude. I hold doors open for people, hell some of them I know and don’t even like but I still don’t let doors slam in people’s faces. Oh, and I hope you get herpes. Asshole.
To the host at my local chain eatery who each time I go there with my daughter asks “just the two of you?” please learn the power of the word “just”. You don’t realize it but you’re being an asshole. I don’t wish herpes on you because I don’t think you realize you’re being an asshole but you are. I do however wish diarrhea on you. And for you to run out of toilet paper. While at work. Right in the middle of your shift. On a really busy night. Oh shit, fine, I do wish herpes on you too. Asshole.
To the person who parked so close to my car that I needed a fucking can opener to get back in to it when I got back out to the parking lot. You’re a big old asshole too. Seriously, I can’t believe you don’t get out of your car, see how you parked and then knowingly decide fuck it, you don’t care. I had to suck my gut in so far to get in my car my head almost popped off the top of my pudgy little body. Plus, you made me feel really fucking fat and then I felt bad about myself and then I got depressed and then I wanted a fucking ice cream cone and then I wanted sprinkles on it because sprinkles are really fucking happy and I needed a cherry too to kill the pain because I eat my feelings. It's your fault I'm fat, not really, but it sounds good right now. Oh, and I hope both you and your fucking car get herpes. Asshole.
Single Mom Survives
P.S. Dear makers of whatever type of creams, jellies, foams, patches or pills one might take for herpes…. no need to thank me.