dear old lady who made me cry,

To the old woman standing in line who made me cry at the post office this morning,

Fuck you.

You are demon-like for whispering mean things about me and my postal incompetence so early in the morning. You, villain, are my first interaction of the day/ winter season. You have made me sad and small, not because I am weak, but because my guard was down. I walked into the dining hall of my boarding school prepared to feel small; I walked into the post office this morning prepared to buy flower stamps. You win, terrible woman, with the element of surprise.

I understand that you can't possibly recognize that I already LOATHE the post office. My social anxiety makes this whole errand painful enough. I already have to deal with the slightly taller demon that I can only imagine works here. Please just smile at me apologetically like everyone else does when I look this out of place.

Okay, I retract.

Dear sad, sad, old woman,

I get it, December sucks. I have finals, which means you have no place to sit in any of the coffee shops or bookstores in the whole pioneer valley. Christmas is approaching, and I get it, that kinda sucks, too. It's cold, and my socks are made out of alpaca wool, but maybe yours aren't, and maybe I look like someone you've been hating for more reasons than this morning's line long conversation could possibly articulate.

Maybe you just spilled your coffee.
Maybe you got fired.
Maybe all your children hate you and no one sent you any Christmas presents..
Maybe those thoughts prompted my smile and apology at your first nasty comment, but you took things too far.

I'm sure the last thing you wanted to see this morning was a sleepy millennial, tryna buy flower stamps.

Dear demon,

Don't be mean to strangers, sometimes they forgot to put their old-woman-hate-speech-armor on.

Dear old woman,

You hurt my feelings, but I cried because I felt like I somehow hurt yours, first. I hope things get better, from here.

xx Monique