Writes Steph in Toronto: “Most of the notices posted in the elevator of my condo building are pretty standard (fire alarm drills, etc.) but this one’s special. It just raises so many questions: Was the milk expired? Were they throwing it at someone? How much milk are we talking about that it’s a ‘matter of public safety’? I need to know!”
One of the employees at Rebecca’s workplace in Toronto is unfortunately prone to surprise sneezing fits…much to the chagrin of a certain co-worker. After one too many gesundheits, this coworker apparently decided to go public with her message, posting this note where the sneezer — god bless her — would be sure to see it.
Heather in Toronto lives in a large -rise apartment, so she says it’s difficult to determine the identity of the ash-holes who are tossing their cigarette butts off their balconies with no apparent concern for either the earth or the people living down below. Heather says this photo doesn’t even show the full extent of the problem — there are many, many more butts around — so “feel free to suggest a new short message!”
Writes Mimi in Toronto: “Me being 17 and my brother being 19, we weren’t particularly interested in doing the whole ‘leave Santa provisions’ charade on Christmas Eve. Our mother took offense to our lack of Christmas spirit, and we awoke the next morning to this note, along with some half eaten cookies and carrots.”
Amy and her cousin were enjoying a casual stroll in Toronto when they noticed this note in a neighbor’s garden — a note which Amy says left her with far more questions than answers.
I’d have to agree with Amy that the stand-out line here is the one towards the end about whether the tomato thief ever makes racist or ageist remarks. (Because…huh?)
Adds Amy: “The lack of grammar made me think that ‘young people’ were a new racial group. And why does the note-writer beg the thief to at least return ONE of the stolen tomatoes — because it’s so precious? And is the last line a threat of being infected by Asian lily beetle poison? I don’t get it!”
“My roommate is a total slob,” says Elinor in Toronto, so after two weeks away from the apartment, she wasn’t too surprised to see the kitchen piled high with several delightfully fragrant, filled-to-the-brim garbage bags. When she went to throw them out, Elinor discovered one of the bags was actually filled with clothes, so she put that one in her roommate’s room.
The next morning, Elinor found both of these notes slid under her bedroom door.
It all started when Erin in Toronto sent her uncle a Christmas card. Actually, scratch that — it all started three years ago, at Erin’s wedding, the last time Erin actually saw her uncle in person.
Before the wedding, Erin explains, “Linda (my uncle’s girlfriend) RSVP’d that she’d attend, and then then didn’t bother to show up, meaning we had to pay for her meal anyway.” (Not that she’s bitter about that or anything!) “Since then,” Erin says, “I assumed they had broken up and have addressed the annual Christmas card to just my uncle and cousin.”
Now, while that might sound a bit hasty (or even, dare I say…passive-aggressive), in Erin’s defense, the Christmas cards she received were only signed by her uncle and cousin — this year’s included. And yet, in what appears to be a last-minute back-of-the-envelope calculation, “Linda chose this year to remind me that she was still kicking around,” Erin says.
On the flip side of things, receiving mail addressed to one’s ex can be a disturbing experience as well. I’d say this intercepted message speaks for itself.