Snow (sweptawaybayou) wrote,

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Letters for a Friday

Dear Customer,

When I'm filling the bread in the bread aisle and I have racks around me ... all you have to do is ask and I'll get you that loaf of bread that I or my racks are in front of. In fact, if you ask nice, I'll get you a fresher loaf than I will if you try to

a)reach around me

b)push your cart past/over/on me or

c)stare at me until I ask you if you need help.

And believe me, I'm not asking if you need help getting your damn loaf of bread.

Don't you have more shopping to do? Can't you just pass me by and come back in ten minutes? I'll be done, the shelves will be full and you won't have to pretend that you don't see me. Okay?

*rolls my eyes at your fucking entitlement ass*


Dear Bakery Employee,

You left my bakery at 4 pm. I came in at 4:30pm. I saw the mess you so lovingly left for me to clean up. Spilled decorates. Airbrush colors left out. Trash all over the counter. Cakes left out of the freezer.

yes. I saw that.

In fact, I *saw* it so much, that I called BOTH Asst. Store Mgrs to the bakery and told them that what you left for me was a lovely, lovely FUCK YOU. And they took pictures.

Yes. There is a full~time position open in my bakery. And yes, you are the employee with the most seniority. But you know what? I'd rather give it to my DOG than you.

I had today off, dear Employee, but I will be there tomorrow. And guess what ... So will you. And, even better, oh wonderful Employee, guess who makes out your schedule?

I can't imagine that you do not know, but just in case it has slipped your mind? That would be me. And guess, oh, please, just guess how many hours you're going to get next week? Hope you're not planning on anything with that pay check, because it's going to be about 10. If you're lucky.

Absolutely NO LOVE,


Dear Mom,

I called to find out about my father. I didn't call to hear how in denial he is. I didn't call to hear you bitch about how long he's been smoking. I didn't call to hear you put down my kids or my life or my job, okay? I called to talk to my father.

Please take a pill. Of anything. And then hand the phone to my dad.



Dear Supernatural Fandom,

Someone! Please to be writing me Dean, Sam and Mike Rowe fic. You know! Dirty Jobs!Man?!

You know you want to. You know Dean wants you to. And you KNOW Mike Rowe wants to hunt a ghost, kill a ghost, dig up a body ... salt and burn the bones.

You know he does.

Oh! And one of the camera!men has to get hurt, of course. While wearing a red shirt.





**flings myself at you**
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