Dear Annoying Person (That Means You)

Dear Squeaky Voice Crazy Lady,
Just because I planned something and the person who asked for it to be done doesn't remember asking, doesn't mean I went ahead and did it without their authorization. I'm not a moron. That would be you. And when I hold my fingers to my head like a gun and pretend to blow my head off, well, I don't REALLY want to die, it just feels like I AM when you talk to me. Secretly, I give you the finger all day long.

Dear Target Lady Haircut,
Its so obvious that you have zero self confidence. The volume of your voice does not necessarily reflect that but you're too transparent not to see right through you. You're not cute. You're not funny. You're obnoxious and clearly raised by wolves who never told you that chewing on food loudly while you talk is disgusting.

Dear Twenty-Something Emo,
I get that it must suck that no other retail establishment would hire you. But accepting a cashier position at Walmart does not mean you let go of all your sensibilities. Why would you pack a bag of chips in with 2 jugs of milk? I realize that your mind is wandering over to that brooding, quirky-yet-pretty cashier at till 1 but come on now. Don't leave your common sense in the lunch room.

Dear Really Really Old Waitress,
He's really really fat. I see it. You see it. Everyone sees it. So why would you park him at a booth when the rest of the joint is empty? Give the dude a chair. Seeing him wedged between the booth seat and the table edge makes me feel bad for the guy. And makes me think your skinny little ass enjoys it.

Dear Lazy Doesn't Work A Lot,
When will you start to realize that the people who work around you work WITH you, not FOR you? When I email you a question, please refrain from turning it into something that I am now keeping track of for you. Because I? Am not a sucker. Sorry to disappoint.

Dear Creepy Finance Dude,
The way you hover around makes everyone feel like they need a shower once you're gone. Peering at people over the rim of your glasses perched on your nose also does nothing to further your cause. You've mastered the creep. Also, talking to me like you're flabbergasted that I might actually a) make sense or b) not have an effing clue what you're talking about makes me want to punch you right in the face. You're on the list pal.