Dear people in the Subway line (or any other line for that matter):

1.  It is not okay for you to make out while standing in front of me.  You're ugly enough without the visual onslaught that is your grotesque pink tongue.  No, I don't care HOW much sex you're having.

2.  If you brush up against my backpack one more time, it's war.  It's not a personal space thing; I just assume you're trying to steal my wallet.

3.  Are you that girl who talks 120 mph at Volume 20 about your overly-neurotic scheduling habits in a way that makes it sound like you are complaining that what little you have to do is driving you crazy?  Two words: Shut. Up.

Now that all of you have totally turned me off my lunch, I guess I'll just throw it at you.



No love,
CJ