Dear Health Food Store Clerk:

I guess I’m not the only one you hate because today I witnessed your extreme agitation at the customer in front of me. In fact, the perfectly lovely looking lady had to bag her own groceries because you were far too wired on tension to help. I also noticed for the first time your two tattoos that say DIE, one on each arm.

I’ve thought about calling the owner and saying something like, “you know, I spend like twenty thousand dollars a year in your store and I don’t require much from the cashier. Maybe a simple, “hey” with a polite demeanor that doesn’t scream I want you to DIE. However, I’m getting a little bitter about the sociopathic clerks you hire. Your rival across the street hires disabled employees that are cheery and not only do they bag my groceries but they take them to my car and load them in and I think they even washed my windows and vacuumed the car one time."

I haven’t called the owner though because I think if you got fired you might go killing a cat and I don’t want a cat to die. I think I may just have to say something one of these days, something like, “hey, could you go trade this
Seitan [Satan] for another one because this one looks like it just died.”