Putting the Shit in Shitheads

Dear Punk Ass Shitheads,

First off I want to make sure that you know this is not an apology letter. I'm not at all sorry that when you stole the package from the hall in front of my door you were disappointed to find the replacement part for my dishwasher instead of an iPhone or a tablet computer or $500 in cash or whatever you thought the universe would reward your lazy dickheaded ways with.

I want to be doubly sure that you know this isn't a thank you letter. Sure, the part seems to be intact and was left in an open area, ripe for discovery but I'm not going to thank you for that. I'm not a dishwasher expert. I don't know if the part is damaged now or if you took out any fasteners or dropped a connector or anything else vital to getting my dishes washed without having to mop my floor at the same time...for an hour. Even if you'd taped it back up and hand delivered it to me I wouldn't be thanking you. I know you don't care but I feel it bears repeating; you were wrong. Wrong sucks.

Lastly I think it's fair to point some things out. You remember a couple of years ago when you stole the package from in front of the first floor apartment and it turned out to be handmade books of that woman's poetry and photography that you also didn't find interesting? I found that, too. It was in exactly the same place as my dishwasher part. I returned it to her and I don't care that she thought I was the lying, scumbag thief. We all knew she wasn't staying long. I, however, plan to stay until they drag my cold, dead, 105-year-old body from the apartment. Eventually I'll be the one who sees you scooping up a package or abandoning one and when I do I'll have my iPhone at the ready (getting it in January, having it delivered to work, don't hold your fetid breath [now go look up fetid, surely you've stolen something with internet access]) and I'll take your picture with its superhero of a camera and I will post that fucker everywhere. I will send it to the listserv, I'll post it on this blog, I'll tweet it and Facebook it, I'll print copies for every floor in every building, I'll put it on coffee mugs to gift to the security guards, I might even invest in a sandwich board and wear it while I walk my dog in the neighborhood.

Go ahead, laugh, it's funny as long as you think I'm not really going to do it.

Sincerely*,
The Angry Weird Chick on The 2nd Floor

P.S. You don't know me.

*You ought to look that one up, too. Let the proper definition sink in.