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Things I wish I was bad ass enough to say outloud...
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Dear Valued Customer,


Your speshul snowflaik is throwing a fit. And not just any usual kiddie fit. Your child is screaming at the top of her lungs, laying on the floor flailing about right in the middle of the main pathway into the store, which incidentally leads directly to my studio front and the handicap accessible restrooms. In other words, this is a heavily trafficed area. While your screamer is attracting attention from around the store you are giving all your attention to the junior clothes on the rack in front of you, throwing the occasional glance to the melt down occuring about 25 feet behind you.

If you would be so kind to stop browsing the shelves and tend to your chilld...  BACK UP FROM THE CLOTHING RACKS AND PICK YOUR LITTLE DROPLING UP OFF THE FLOOR! That floor is filthy from the hordes of people that walk in and out of here, plus I'm sure the old man in the wheel chair would have loved the extra couple of feet between people's carts and the child on the floor to maneuver around in to get himself over to the rest room without risking damage to the screamer (er rather his wheelchair, seeing as the child doesn't seem to be all that important to you).

Seeing as I'm not an actual Wally associate what occurs outside my studio really isn't any of my business, nor in my jurisdiction to handle so to speak, but don't think I won't find somebody who wouldn't be above taking a little glee in booting you out the store.

*Me

PS, I met your elderly mother. It's a little fucked up you left that little old woman to pick up your dropling while you continued on messing around in juniors.


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