Dear Apparel Makers,
Remember when jeans contained actual denim? And were not made of 90 percent stretchy spandex?
Yeah. Those were the days.
And remember when stores used to carry all of their styles IN the store, and not just online, so you could actually try them on before you buy, and not just guess as to which style will actually fit your Polish hips? (I’m looking at YOU, Banana Republic.)
Please reconsider your business model, at least in this regard.
P.S. And don’t even get me started on how it’s discrimination to not carry extra tall or extra short sizes in-store, and sell them online only, forcing us to pay for shipping.
Dear Big Box Store Marketers,
Please stop trying to take away my summer before it’s ready to be done. No one is going to die if you hold off putting out Halloween wares until after Labor Day. At least, I don’t think they will.
But so help me God, for the love of all that is holy and decent, if I see a single Christmas display before November I will punch one or all of you in the nuts.
Dear Woman I Just Saw On The Street,
Those aren’t shorts you’re wearing, they are denim underwear.
That can’t be comfortable.
Dear People Who Wear Boots During The Summer, Even If It IS Only 68 Degrees Outside,
I don’t understand you.
Dear Upstairs Neighbor,
I’m concerned about your health. Specifically, that you are going to develop back problems, if you haven’t already, because of the cinderblock shoes I am guessing you sport daily, as evidenced by the absurdly heavy stepping you do from one end of your apartment to the other.
I am also concerned about the damage you’re doing to your floors, and consequently your property value, which, in a convoluted algorithm I’ve established in my bizarre, math-lacking brain, affects my property value. Therefore, if you want to come over next Tuesday night, we can shop the Internet for slippers. And maybe a plush rug or two. I’ll put you on my calendar.
Your Downstairs Neighbor, aka, (If You Haven’t Already Guessed) McPolish