Dear Cocker Spaniel Bitch...

Since I've picked up Tuesday nights, I have to be nice to you, and it makes me want to punch you in the face. Thank goodness you are only in one night a week, for pool league, I think I would have to find a new job if you were there more than that.

I love it when I try to take your drink order and and you look at me with a mixture of distaste and the blank stare of a very low IQ. Or better yet, when you completely ignore me, so I then ask your chubby mustachioed friend (who is a female, I think) and she ignores me as well.

I'm not talking to hear the sound of my voice, or to look like a fool when you ignore me. I'm sorry that you are so busy bending over in your short skirts playing pool (I use the term loosely, like your snatch, I'm sure) and throwing your skanky self at everyone male between the ages of 21 and 98, that you cannot be bothered to fucking answer when I try to "serve" you. Maybe next time you ask for something, I'll be too busy throwing Rum 151 on you and lighting a match, who knows?

By the way, I'm friends with your "boyfriend", I'm not sure if he is your boyfriend though, because when I ask him he mutters, "sorta". Sad, that the guy that isn't too embarrassed to push your ass across the bed, floor, backseat of his car, yet when asked if you two are an item, he turns red and looks at the floor. Gee, I wonder why.

Could it be that you are 25 years old, and wear pigtails on top of your head, every single Tuesday? Hence the nickname, cocker spaniel. Some girls can pull it off, but Honey, not you.

Do us all a favor, M'kay? Wipe that blank fucking stare off your manly face, wear some fucking pants when you know you are going to be bending over all night, fix your stupid 3rd grade hair, and for good measure, rip a load of wax off your friend's upper lip.

Better yet, quit the pool team, you suck anyway.

Sincerely,

The Mayor