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funny (if not necessarily "passive-aggressive") notes from pissed-off people
Nothing could have prepared Lauren in Oakland for the passive-aggressive avalanche that awaited her the other day at her new apartment. She calls the experience of finding the notes totally surreal. “It keeps playing back in slow motion in my mind, from the second I saw the first one hanging over the threshold to my absolute horror and delight at finding an eleventh one hours later on the bathroom door.” Here’s the theme park version!
“I’m not sure anything in particular prompted it,” Lauren says, “but I live, apparently, in some kind of alternate dimension where full-grown adults believe in chore-wheels, so it could’ve been anything — but certainly not ELEVEN things to correspond with the number of found notes. Then again, I’m not a timebomb waiting to explode, so how would I know?”
Ashley in Chicago says her roommates are the king and queen of passive-aggressive notes. (“If they ever found this site, they’d think it was a self help group,” she says.) The latest example:
Ashley’s still fuming over this one. “I mean, come on. Just throw it away yourself! You’re probably exerting more energy writing the email and stressing about it,” she says. “And why do you think I’ve been spending so much time at my boyfriend’s anyway?”
It was a “killer busy” week at the office, so Gord in Ontario admits that he and his ad-business coworkers left the place in a certain state of disarray. (Such is the wont of “creative professionals.”) Unfortunately, the boss chose that weekend to pop in to give some people an impromptu tour. On Monday, these adorable little thought balloons were posted all around the office.
The boss never mentioned the incident again. But rationalizing, it seems, that a sleeping dog is just a dog waiting to be kicked, Gord and his coworkers turned the notes into a T-shirt.
Carlina in Texas is close with her parents, but she’s been having a bit of a rough time lately. Apparently Carlina’s mother has grown tired of her daughter’s apathy/hostility/general malaise, and slipped this classic mom noteunder her door.
If that note didn’t remind you of your own mom, perhaps you can relate to this one from Alexandra (or rather, her friend) which displays a more familiar variety of maternal guilt trip. it’s like your teenage years condensed into note form!
P.S. Carlina says she definitely plans to take her mom up on the dinner.
Those troublemakers requesting more crazy apartment notes can thank our anonymous submitter (a GM at a property management firm in Springfield, Missouri) for today’s masterpiece. “One of our resident managers delivered this letter to 115 units at her property, then e-mailed me a copy because she was REALLY proud of it,” our submitter writes. “I got halfway through and realized I had to send it to you.”
Mona in Los Angeles brings us this pair of notes from her high-rise Century City office building. Says Mona, “Apparently my co-worker saw the panties at issue. My question is…who leaves their panties in the bathroom at work? Who does that?”
My question: Why are we letting Paris and Britney off the hook? If they actually remember to wear them, shouldn’t we encourage keeping them on?
And then there’s this one, which brings up the old mad bomber-era debate about which gender leaves the bathrooms in worse shape.
Writes our anonymous submitter in Corte Madera, California: “We have a lot of passive-aggressive notes up around the office, and most of them are addressed to the entire office staff in common areas. You can imagine my surprise when after eating lunch and going out for a smoke break with some coworkers today, we came back to find a bit of passive-aggressiveness on our lunch table — not 15 minutes after we had left it. Grrrrr.”
Craig from Nottingham, England snapped these at the pub where his cousin works. (Apologies for the blurriness — just pretend you’ve already knocked back a few pints.)
By the way, if you’d like to go meet Stephen and shake his hand, Craig says the name of the pub is The Flowing Spring, in Henley. Stephen seems like a kindred spirit to Desi’s New York dungeon master, no?