Dear Fellow Consumers,
I haven't technically been a fellow consumer for quite a long time (other than the discount grocery store,) and maybe that is why I haven't noticed the recent trend in freakish awareness of dental hygiene accompanied by chronic littering. I'm talking about dental floss. You know, the single-use kind, with a plastic handle and a little piece of floss strung across one end?
Yesterday while running errands, I had to stop at four stores. In every single parking lot, there was a dental floss pick on the ground next to my car. Two things about this bother me: First, that it's become necessary to floss that many times every day. Has there been a recent FDA discovery linking high fructose corn syrup with gum disease that nobody told me about? You must have a lot of crap stuck between your teeth if your used floss is so horrifying that it must be disposed of immediately in the parking lot.
Which brings me to my second point- How do those little things work, exactly? Say you started with your back teeth and worked your way up. You only have a half inch of floss here, so if you did extract something from the back, where's the clean floss for the rest of your teeth? I can't imagine just jamming it back up into the next space with a glob of food or plaque on there. That's like picking your nose and putting it back in, am I right? So now what- Do you wipe it on your jeans? Toss it and start with a fresh one? Maybe that's why they're all over the ground?
In closing, I'd like to suggest that if you do feel the need to floss your teeth in the Target parking lot, maybe you could just throw it in the trash can. Where I don't have to look at your plaque string.
Dear Gasbag in my office,
Please stop farting in the vestibule every afternoon on your way out. I really appreciate that you've held it in this long, but surely you can make it two more steps to the great outdoors. There's no ventilation in the vestibule, which means your stinky fart lingers for hours. I know, because often it's still there the next morning. How is that even possible? What are you eating??
Dear Elvis Impersonator,
I think it's really great that you're trying to advertise your tattoo shop by dressing up like Elvis and doing a creepy dance on the sidewalk every afternoon at 3:30. Keep up the good work.
Dear Weird Parents at the playground,
I know it's my fault for bringing my daughter to the playground on the night of soccer practice. I really should expect some variety of lunacy considering the sheer number of unsupervised children compared to the number of gossiping adults. But I was especially alarmed this week when a small group of middle-aged men dressed in what can only be described as "roadhouse wear" stood close to the play equipment and argued about the likelihood of Captain Picard defeating the Borg in the manner that he did.
I understand that you're entitled to discuss whatever you feel necessary at the playground and I have no right to judge, but I admit that I become somewhat uncomfortable when the conversation turned to the best method of mutilating extraterrestrials should they suddenly appear on the playground. I'm glad to know how concerned you are for the safety of the children involved in this theoretical attack, but I have to wonder if the playground is really the place to discuss the details of this. Maybe you should map out a battle plan before you leave the house? Just a suggestion.
Furthermore, I really feel that bringing a small stereo to play a Rob Zombie CD was a little inappropriate.Sincerely,
PS. For the record, the other race in Battlestar Galactica was Cylons, not Cyclons.