Love letters.

I wish I could sum up my love and devotion to each and every rude person I've met this past week in one general letter, but I cannot. Truthfully each one deserves their own few inches of Biggity Blog space.

To the Wal-Mart parking lot man:

I never knew this would be the day my life would change. What began as a normal trip to the grocery store soon became an afternoon of pure, unadulterated passion. How quickly I did judge those who lazily leave their shopping carts in the paths of vehicles capable of doing massive damage to property and people! If I would've known you were a part of such an elite group, I would've have held back such vicious words. I remember the moment of our meeting clearly. I was unloading groceries and so were you. Fate? I think yes. I pushed the random (but blessed, obviously) basket into the holder followed by my own. How lucky I am that you were so kind to leave yours for me to put away! I was frozen with bated breath. My fingers clenched tightly around the bar of the cart as you walked towards me. The wind caught your magnificent mullet and for just a moment, so precious, the clouds broke to cast a ray of sunshine to glint off your yellow and rotten teeth. My mind and heart hoped you would come and rescue your abandoned basket from me and return it. But no. You bestowed that duty upon me. Thank you, kind sir. Thank you for giving me further reasons to prove what is so beautifully wrong with America. I bid thee well.

Jerk.

To the lovely con-artist woman:

Work can be such a bore. Anyone can attest to that. How lucky I am that you would choose such a day to call ME. My heart leaped as I heard your friendly, monotone, smoker's voice crackle through my cell phone. It was such a beautiful sound really. Like unicorns weeping sugar tears into a river of chocolate with gummy bears floating on LifeSavers. Ahhhh, bliss. I love that I always have you as a friend to advance your financial situation by attempting to con me into purchasing an extended warranty on a car you know nothing about. Just like ObamaCare...pre-existing conditions? Who cares? Ahhh, YOU are a friend. As much as this is a love letter to my new-found friend, this is an apology. I apologize for being so rude when you interrupted a busy day at my sole means of earning a living. Really, I should be more concerned with making sure YOU have a great day. My snarky ways are often unnecessary. Your wit of "Damn, lady, pull the stick out of your butt" continues to make me giggle in the warmth of our friendship glow. I am so sorry. Please forgive me. You have a swell day.

B-word.