Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

An open letter to the guy who gave me my driving exam.

Dear driving examiner guy,

Why did you make s**t up? I probably did enough things wrong for real to merit a fail; there was no reason to make up a bunch of infractions which I honestly didn't do. I know I signalled on my 3-point turn. D'you know why I'm so sure? Probably because while I was turning, my signal turned itself off, and I went so far as to turn it on again. If anything, I potentially should have lost a mark for signalling inappropriately. Why did you write 'no' beside the 'signal?' category?

I know I checked my blind spot before making turns or switching lanes. D'you know why I'm sure? Because I was afraid I'd get in trouble for looking behind me while going forward, because I was checking so far over my shoulder.

I did, however, deserve to lose the mark for going too slow on an on-ramp. Next time, I'll be sure to either rear-end the slow vehicle in front of me in my rush to enter the highway, or to avoid merging until I'm up to speed, even if it means driving off the road. I also deserved the mark lost for going too fast in the left lane when that truck was bearing down on us doing about 140. Next time I'll know to maintain the speed limit, even if it ******** kills me.

Did you think I was the a*****e who was 20 minutes late for his test? Actually, I was taking that dickwad's place so that you wouldn't have to be bored; I was almost an hour early for my test. Did you start off with a bias? You certainly seemed determined to make me fail.

In conclusion, I have no idea how to improve upon the things you marked me down for because I already do the majority of them correctly. smile
.....

An open letter to the local bus company

Dear OC Transpo Lost and Found,

Why are you staffed exclusively by old ladies who can only stand with difficulty? Wouldn't it be a lot kinder to offer these women jobs where they don't have to run around all over the place? Perhaps you could use some sort of a system - often known as a telephone - to allow these people to communicate with each other without shuffling painfully across an uneven floor.

Similarly, why is the head of this business illiterate? Shouldn't she be able to read the information I've written down about my lost cellphone, rather than asking me to tell her about it while leaving the book facedown on a table? If this is some sort of a test to prevent people from stealing others' cellphones, then why do you require them to, at a different time, provide proof of ownership? Wouldn't this be a lot more efficient if she simply read over the information to check if there is any phone matching this description in her posession?

In conclusion, ******** you I found my phone on my own.
.......

An open letter to the users of the zebrafish room.

Dear zebrafish room users,

Why do you leave the door of a temperature-controlled room open while you are inside? It's not a claustrophobically small room; I would have thought that you'd prefer to close the door, seeing as how it blocks out a lot of the sounds of the construction in the boiler room. Closing the door also prevents that pipe that drips condensation from leaving a metric ******** of water all over the floor. However, since the majority of you don't need to stand in that lake while tending to your fish, I guess that doesn't matter. Could keeping the door closed as often as possible have prevented that catastrophic temperature change in the water system that killed almost 150 fish? I don't know, but I doubt it would have hurt.

Why isn't literacy a requirement for entry into a masters' or phd program? Why do most students find it impossible to avoid feeding my fish, despite the giant neon green sign begging them not to? Why do they go out of their way to feed the tank which has tape reading DO NOT FEED covering the feeding holes? It's a mystery for the ages.

In conclusion, most of you are infuriating.
.....

An open letter to myself.

Dear self,

Why have you gone ******** crazy lately? How did you not notice that your grip on reality was becoming ever more precarious? How did you get to be like this when it seems like there's no continuum? The wacky dreams are great, but the rest of it isn't so hot.

In conclusion, wtf dude.
.....

An open letter to that yogurt I ate this morning.

Dear empty container of yogurt,

Thank you for being so full of yogurt when I first met you. You were all delicious and berry-y.

Yours,

Tyrone Bibbins, esq.