Dear Guy On The Phone On The 7 Train,
Had you been screaming your social security number and all of your banking information, I wouldn’t have been so annoyed. However, since all you did was boast about your successful private happenings with some “mad hot chick,” I couldn’t help but glare at you. If the universe was kind, that girl would have been in that car and the rest of us passengers would have had our night made. Alas, the universe just teases us with such possibilities.
Love,
The chick with the notepad, trying to make your head explode with her mind.
PS: Complaining about how “no womans be making [you] no cake” isn’t going to get you any cake. Just buy some mix at the store and make it yourself. Seriously, you’d think it was rocket science.