Monday, May 26, 2008

Dear Moped Guy

With the price of gas we can no longer assume you are a three DUI driver and twelve pack a day drunk.  That goodness your  license plate reads "Moped" because otherwise I may have thought it was a lawn mower.



Dear matronly elderly lady,
When introduced to you just now, I couldn’t decide whether to go with the palm-down handshake followed by a light hug/pat combo or if I should just leave it at the shake. Doubtless, you noticed my internal struggle, because I completely missed your lean-in and left you hanging. Lucky for both of us, I rallied back with a two-handed palm squeeze and a lame comment about the plastic flowers in your hat. To be brutally honest, until I try some of your banana pudding I may just relegate you to a wave/wink/finger point acknowledgment from across the room next time.
Columbia City Paper   

Dear moped guy in traffic,

Your full three-piece suit is cool enough, but man you just took it to a whole new level when you revved the engine at the sports car next to you without a hint of irony. And it was a thing of beauty to see you jump off the line at the last light and go from 0 to 15, your left arm casually dangling like a Southern Viking on a Harley, the engine buzzing like a broken weedeater. But your magnum opus, sir, was the wheelie you just tried to pop while making a left off Beltline. Bravo, maestro! Bravo!
Columbia City Paper

Dear Roomba robotic vacuum cleaner,
There’s been a hint of annoyance in your whirs and ticks lately. You’ve been fussing around the house and lodging yourself in the bedroom ever since I dropped that bag of fertilizer in the kitchen and it took you two weeks to get it all. I recognize the standards you’ve set for yourself deep down in your sub transistor electrodes. And I sympathize with the regular shame you endure when the dog tosses you around like a retrieved Frisby before dropping you in the cat’s litter box. But c’mon, that’s no excuse to act like a jerk.
Columbia City Paper  

Dear looming city council vote,

Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em!
Columbia City Paper

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