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Dear clerk at Family Dollar,
I appreciate that you're an older woman, and I am well aware of the fact that even though you were handling my transaction, you were talking to the four women hanging out at the end of your register and not to me. I'm fine with that so long as you take my money and give me back my items plus my change.
However, just because you aren't talking to me doesn't mean I need to know that you haven't desired or wanted sex for the last few years of your life. Nor did I particularly need to know that "the thought of it makes [you] sick." No, you never actually said the word sex, but from the way you and the other women carried on it wasn't exactly difficult to know what you were discussing. I'm just glad I was there alone and that my son was not accompanying me on this particular trip.
Please be more mindful of those who can hear you speaking.
- Jade
****
Dear sales asshat at the mall,
Yes, I know you have a sales pitch you must run through, and I noticed how pushy you are grabbing women's hands and buffing their fingernails before we can even tell you no. Yes, yes, you're product is amazing, and oh isn't my thumbnail now so shiny. Oh yes, we're all very impressed. However, I should inform you that I really don't give a fuck if you think my nails are ugly.
When you targeted me while I was walking with my son, I wasn't able to escape before you grabbed hold of my hand. Yet, did it not occur to you that the woman with the blue jeans, Rorsach t-shirt, and an old men's Carhartt jacket tied around her waist isn't exactly the woman likely to spend fifty dollars on a freaking nail file and hand lotion? Sure, I wear my hair long, but notice how it hangs limply only tied back in a ponytail. Also, note the lack of any sort of makeup. I am a woman, but I am not the sort of woman who gives a damn about your product. Fifty bucks to make my nails shiny with a glorified emery board? Puh-leaze! Do you know how many books I can buy with that? Hell, that's a brand new video game, or a couple of used ones.
I wasn't lying when I said I let my nails grow out naturally. They don't break easily, and I happen to like them just the way they are - well, when I actually pay attention to them. So, again, what, exactly, you hoped to accomplish by telling me you didn't like my nails - even if it was part of your damned sales pitch - is a mystery to me. I'm getting tired of having to avoid your pushy sales people at your kiosks everytime I go to the mall. Even telling you I'm not interested doesn't deter you. I hate being touched, and you don't even ask permission. It's an intimidating tactic, and one I will be writing the mall office about. I can't be the only woman who finds it unnerving, even when done by another woman.
So, to sum up: Fuck you, I like my nails being all fugly and non-shiny.
Leave me alone next time,
Jade
I appreciate that you're an older woman, and I am well aware of the fact that even though you were handling my transaction, you were talking to the four women hanging out at the end of your register and not to me. I'm fine with that so long as you take my money and give me back my items plus my change.
However, just because you aren't talking to me doesn't mean I need to know that you haven't desired or wanted sex for the last few years of your life. Nor did I particularly need to know that "the thought of it makes [you] sick." No, you never actually said the word sex, but from the way you and the other women carried on it wasn't exactly difficult to know what you were discussing. I'm just glad I was there alone and that my son was not accompanying me on this particular trip.
Please be more mindful of those who can hear you speaking.
- Jade
****
Dear sales asshat at the mall,
Yes, I know you have a sales pitch you must run through, and I noticed how pushy you are grabbing women's hands and buffing their fingernails before we can even tell you no. Yes, yes, you're product is amazing, and oh isn't my thumbnail now so shiny. Oh yes, we're all very impressed. However, I should inform you that I really don't give a fuck if you think my nails are ugly.
When you targeted me while I was walking with my son, I wasn't able to escape before you grabbed hold of my hand. Yet, did it not occur to you that the woman with the blue jeans, Rorsach t-shirt, and an old men's Carhartt jacket tied around her waist isn't exactly the woman likely to spend fifty dollars on a freaking nail file and hand lotion? Sure, I wear my hair long, but notice how it hangs limply only tied back in a ponytail. Also, note the lack of any sort of makeup. I am a woman, but I am not the sort of woman who gives a damn about your product. Fifty bucks to make my nails shiny with a glorified emery board? Puh-leaze! Do you know how many books I can buy with that? Hell, that's a brand new video game, or a couple of used ones.
I wasn't lying when I said I let my nails grow out naturally. They don't break easily, and I happen to like them just the way they are - well, when I actually pay attention to them. So, again, what, exactly, you hoped to accomplish by telling me you didn't like my nails - even if it was part of your damned sales pitch - is a mystery to me. I'm getting tired of having to avoid your pushy sales people at your kiosks everytime I go to the mall. Even telling you I'm not interested doesn't deter you. I hate being touched, and you don't even ask permission. It's an intimidating tactic, and one I will be writing the mall office about. I can't be the only woman who finds it unnerving, even when done by another woman.
So, to sum up: Fuck you, I like my nails being all fugly and non-shiny.
Leave me alone next time,
Jade
