You are a locally famous TV news reporter. I work in the parking lot of a major sporting arena. On the night of April 3, you attempted to park in a spot that my boss specifically told me to keep reserved. Instead of moving your car when I politely asked, you decided to jump out of your car and start screaming in my face about how important you were, and how I should know who you are. Who do you think you are, Barbara-fucking-Walters? I had no clue who you were, because I wouldn't waste my fucking time watching a half-assed cunt read the news off of a teleprompter. Don't assume that just because I spend my nights parking cars, I'm an uneducated idiot you can treat like an asshole--because I also happen to spend my mornings as an accountant while you spend your mornings walking around in open-toed shoes just so you can count to 20. So here's a news flash for you... this is Seattle! Your career is going nowhere. In another five years, when those looks dry up and another pretty face is reading off of a teleprompter, you'll be sucking cocks around the office just to keep a filing job--and when you're down there, I hope you fucking choke!

--Anonymous