Hey Asshat,
You were standing there on the 6 train with your knock off Chanel sunglasses with rhinestones in the corner. Or should I say, rhinestone in the corner, as one had fallen out. You purported to be minding your own business, but as your head waggled back and forth as you derided the latest douchey guy in your friend’s life, your split ends unfortunately brushed up against my arm in a vile and nauseating fashion, and continued to do so from Astor Place to 77th Street. I’d appreciate it if next time you would exfoliate someone else’s arm with your scraggly ponytail.
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