Next up: Monster Mash.
related: Christmas Creep
As part of a lesson about civic responsibility, many teachers encourage their students to participate in letter-writing campaigns to Congress, the school board, the Mayor, or other public figures. (Thanks to the efforts of second-graders in Mission, Texas, for example, Texans can now proudly refer to tortilla chips and salsa as their official “state snack.”)
Meanwhile, this teacher in Ypsilanti, Michigan enlisted her 18 middle-school students in a cause even closer to home — her home, that is — by getting them each to write a persuasive letter asking her noisy neighbor to curb his all-night partying.
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.)
extra credit: Jukebox Etiquette 101
Michael is a music teacher in New York, and one of his students, Aleks, a clarinet player with 15 years experience, recently moved to the city to start his master’s degree. “Coming from Ohio, he had no idea what he was getting into when practicing clarinet in his apartment in Queens,” says Michael. “Now he knows.”
related: Buskers & broomsticks
If you’d like to join a vigilante punctuation posse or a grassroots typography militia, Washington State might be the place for you.
In one Seattle suburb, for example, an underground group has targeted a certain “JS,” who sources say “has some serious control/micromanagement issues, and enjoys flaunting his power to tell people what to do a liiiittle too much. He also tends to find nasty ways to get revenge on people who contradict him.”
Elsewhere in Seattle, “office professionalism” seems to have no bearing on freedom of speech…as long as you use the right typeface, of course.
related: Completely valid rebuttals
Our anonymous submitter found this on his keyboard at work one morning. His sheepish explanation? “I guess I really get into the music on my iPod…”
Admittedly, the note-writer has a point — that shit is annoying, yo! — but the contrarian in me still thinks the rest of the office needs to chip in and get our submitter a set of these.
related: Suck on this!
This note is so goddamn beautiful that if I just saw this floating around on Digg or something, I’d probably assume it was fake. And yet, Marta in Vancouver swears it’s for real.
She explains: “The guy who lives in one of the basement suites in our house left this on our front door after we stomped on the floor when he was blasting “Hotel California” at 11 p.m.” Oh, and just so you get a clear picture in your head, Marta says: “This is a guy who hangs out in the backyard with a katana wearing full-on samurai robes.”
Adds Marta: “Never have any of the people in the basement complained about us ‘running down the stairs.’ In fact, they’ve all told us they can never hear us. Sorry for walking, guy, we’ll try to levitate from now on.”
related: Oxford drama
Kait’s roommate in Providence, R.I. was already pissed that the animal house next door was throwing a party on a Tuesday night before a big exam, but it was the shitty pop-rock that really pushed her over the edge. And like so many other college-aged females, “over the edge” means…colored markers.
Adds Kait: “It didn’t stop the noise, but we did get a [sadly undocumented] written response: “Come by if your [sic] fit and into doggie.”
related: Do that to me one more time
“There are several common rooms in my dormitory at Indiana University, and most of them have pianos available for the students to play,” writes Jain in Bloomington.
“While I can empathize with this anonymous student’s frustration, possibly after hearing the third or fourth broken attempt at ‘Chopsticks’ in a single day, I’ve personally found the exit to be a more successful coping strategy than leaving bitchy notes on a baby grand. But hey, different strokes…”
Meanwhile, Dan spotted a supermarket in Sterling, Virginia that took the above note-writer’s sentiment just a half-step further.
related: I used to be your biggest fan
extra credit: pearls before breakfast [washingtonpost.com]
The most passive-aggressive thing about this note? Well, our submitter admits: “I do play soundtracks just to annoy him. Maybe next time he shouldn’t dance with other people’s significant others at the office holiday party.”
related: It was an ironic dance party, okay?