Stephanie in Kansas City, Missouri found this warning posted on the fridge after lunch today:

Around the same time, this note showed up on an office coffee-maker in Washington, D.C.:

Meanwhile, Ashley in Greenville, North Carolina forwards this example of a veiled threat, atheist-style:

related: Remember, God is watching you!

Writes our disgusted submitter: “All that time on the toilet to think, and this is what you came up with?”
______________

related: Does your roommate have note-writing diarrhea?

Maya in the U.K. spotted this magnanimous display on a garden wall on her way home, in a neighborhood “that must be simply full of hundreds of passive-aggressive middle class Brits.” Says Maya: ”I was tempted to steal the daffodils myself, but refrained.”

Meanwhile, Greg’s neighbor in Washington, D.C. decided to go with even an more straight-ahead guilt-trippy approach.

Lastly, Fern spotted this scarily upbeat FYI while vacationing in Key West, Florida. (Adds Fern: “We think the flower just died.”)

related:  Three cities where nature-lovers might want to keep their hands to themselves

P.S. Before settling for a ho-hum Susan Orleans reference, I must admit that when writing this post, I tried — and failed — to come up with an worthy Wordworths-riffing title. In light of my lack of inspiration, I was especially delighted by this bit of brilliance from shwo! in the comments section:

I wandered slyly as a thief
Who flows on low o’er gutter spills,
When all at once I saw a leaf,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the porch, beneath the trees,
I think I will be stealing these.

Our submitter, a bartender in D.C., might not be the world’s biggest Mariah Carey fan, but when a group of customers put “All I Want for Christmas is You,” on the jukebox last Saturday night, he didn’t complain. But when the same group queued the song up again — three times in a row — he invoked his bartender’s privilege and skipped it. After all, he says, “It was DECEMBER 4th. I gave them their money back, but they still kept calling me ‘Grinch.’”

I have to step in here and note that, yes, that song is like crack — once you’re hooked, one hit is never enough. But that’s when you go home and spend the 99 cents to download it so you can indulge your addiction on endless repeat without coughing up a quarter every time. However, money management not being the forte of most addicts, at the end of the night the holiday-happy patrons left behind this oh-so-classy note in lieu of a tip.

That very same weekend, meanwhile, Amy noticed that the bartender at one of her local haunts in Murrysville, Pennsylvania has taken a proactive approach to this particular problem. “Normally a super friendly place, I was sooo tempted to play ‘Don’t Stop Believin’ just to see what they would do.” (Instead, she held on to that feeling — privately — and took a picture.)

related: “You Can Call Me Arse”: A review of last night’s performance

extra credit: Jukebox Etiquette 101

Two simple rules for using the garbage chute:

DO put your dog poo down the chute.

DON’T put your dog, Pooh, down the chute.

(Thanks to Jason in Ottawa and Catherine in D.C. for submitting!)

related: Garbage chute entitlement

Yup, says submitter Jeff in D.C., “that is the broken bike lock on top of the note.”

I’m imagining this notewriter totally whaling on that lock, rejoicing in triumph as the kidnapped bike is freed, and then, in a parting act of contrition, whipping out the Yorkie stationery, and I think the only thing more amusing would be if the cops showed up at precisely that moment.

related: Dear Bike Thief, I am very sorry