Let me stop you right there. Before you say anything else, have you consulted this sign, as spotted on the door of a souvenir shop by Angie in Seattle?

Or this one, as seen by Meghann outside a bar in San Francisco?

Well, then your questions will certainly be answered by my personal favorite, spotted by Jessie at a sandwich shop in Charlottesville, Virginia:

related: Listing in NOW Magazine’s adult classifieds? $70. Revenge?

Writes our anonymous submitter from San Francisco: “I bought $50 worth of groceries at Trader Joe’s, my boyfriend made an awesome pizza out of [some of] them, and as we were watching a movie and eating some, my uber-bachelor roommate yelled through the door and asked if he could get a slice. The man has rice and soy protein on his shelf in the pantry, for almost two years has been replacing leftovers in the fridge with “IOUs,” and rarely makes anything worth sharing — not that we would impose. Sean said ‘yeah,’ I countered with ‘meh,’ and after 30 minutes of door-slamming, he left this note on the table — along with a sticker on our pizza that said ‘meh.’”

related: get your own

Writes our anonymous submitter in San Francisco: “I spotted this on the sidewalk on my way to work. (It wasn’t obviously attached to anything, just laying there.)  I realize parking in SF is a real nightmare, with driveways every .03 inches, but come on!

related: How Berkeley

Presumably, writes Chris in San Francisco, the note-writer “figured that if she didn’t put a note on all each offending bag, someone was going to feel left out.”

Adds Chris: “Admittedly, the Kashi cereal box in the back has been there for over two years.  I leave it just as an experiment in human behavior, but apparently somebody had had enough.”

related: A sign (or ten) that your HR department might have too much time on their hands

Quelle horreur!  “A good week after using my roommate’s microplane to grate parmesan, this note showed up on the fridge whiteboard,” writes Tori in (where else?) San Francisco. “Apparently microplanes are for ZESTING ONLY!”

(unless, of course, it’s a microplane zester/grater.)

related: notes white people leave

Veronica spotted this gloriously expressive exercise in futility stapled to a telephone pole near her home in San Francisco. I totally forgive the double p in “apartment,” because dude,  I know exactly how you feel.

Also, the idea of someone ripping off one of those tabs and going, “Why yes, I will fuck myself!” is just really tickling me right now.

related: untitled (broken glass)

So, Kevin in san francisco says his friend’s roommate went on three “hang out at a bar” dates with this guy from France. After the third date — in admirably straightforward fashion — he told Frenchie it wasn’t wasn’t working out and he didn’t want to see him anymore. (You know, the old “it’s not me, it’s you” routine.)

Unfortunately for them both, le bachelor did not take le hint. Instead, Kevin says, he showed up at his would-be lover’s house and paced back and forth outside the door for an hour while sending creepy text messages. “He finally left, but not without leaving a bouquet of red carnations on the hood of the car with this note attached.”

related: He’s just not that into unicorns

Tom took notice of this “open letter” — a thoughtful missive that clearly merits our collective attention — on a telephone pole in San Francisco.

If we’re really lucky, perhaps this Richard Asshat character will grace us with an open response in the comments, whiteblizzard70-style!

(Note: For your further enrichment, here’s a less faded graphic of the bristol stool scale.)

related: when ph.d.s get angry
extra credit: mcsweeney’s open letters