Dear Fast Food Worker,
I told you my order like 5 times, remember? You kept asking me to repeat it. You still messed it up. I guess it's ok. I mean, you do work at a fast food restaurant.
Sincerely,
Gabe
Letters To (Nobody)
Friday, June 17, 2011
Letter to (Shirtless Frat Boys)
Dear Shirtless Frat Boys,
I didn't realize that Fraternities had mandated a shirtless sunny day policy. Maybe nobody told you but you're in Oregon and it's like 60 degrees out. Even if it were hotter, you're not at the beach. Throwing a football around doesn't make it suddenly ok. You're not in an Abercrombie and Fitch catalog. Why don't you head down to the Adirondacks with your lacrosse sticks and your twill-knit cargo shorts? I can see the jager in your sweat. Please just don't touch me. And put on a shirt. You're in public. Save it for the kegger where I can choose not to be subjected to it.
Sincerely,
Gabe
P.S. Creepy guy at the rec center,
Don't suggest we play shirts and skins. now nobody wants to play.
I didn't realize that Fraternities had mandated a shirtless sunny day policy. Maybe nobody told you but you're in Oregon and it's like 60 degrees out. Even if it were hotter, you're not at the beach. Throwing a football around doesn't make it suddenly ok. You're not in an Abercrombie and Fitch catalog. Why don't you head down to the Adirondacks with your lacrosse sticks and your twill-knit cargo shorts? I can see the jager in your sweat. Please just don't touch me. And put on a shirt. You're in public. Save it for the kegger where I can choose not to be subjected to it.
Sincerely,
Gabe
P.S. Creepy guy at the rec center,
Don't suggest we play shirts and skins. now nobody wants to play.
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