Confrontation...

Dear receding-hair line, ponytail-guy,

When I came out of Wal-Mart and noticed you had decided to park 1 1/2 feet over the yellow line, I was irritated. When I realized there wasn't even enough space to fit my hips between our two vehicles, I was pissed. When you came out of Wal-Mart and noticed me patiently waiting to ream your ass and arrogantly made the quip about how it is difficult getting your big truck in these tiny parking spaces, I thought I might blow a gasket. Your lucky I got the chance to confront you to your face. Had I wrote you a nice love letter about how much I appreciated your gesture, it might have gone something like:

“Dear Asshole,

Thanks for deciding I didn’t need to buckle my screaming child in his car seat today. I’m sure he will very much appreciate that. It’s not my fault your driving a truck, three sizes too big for you. I’m fairly positive that $5 footlong that you just had to have, does not need to be toted around in anything more than a mid-sized sedan. You should probably look into getting a vehicle that fits your driving abilities.

Thanks,

Bitter.”