Seriously?!

An Open Letter to the Schmuck Who Puked in the Elevator:

Dear Schmuck(ette) Who Puked in the Elevator:

Seriously?

Seriously.

Seriously?

You couldn't think of something else for the (maximum) forty seconds you were in the elevator? You couldn't think "GREENWALLSGREENWALLS, TOUCANSAM TOUCANSAM, MARYBRICKELLVILLAGE, MARYBRICKELL VILLAGE," to tide you over until you got out of the elevator?

You couldn't hold down that slice of Hawaiian pizza for that forty seconds?

Seriously?

You NEEDED to boot in the elevator, in the corner, next to the buttons?

Fuck you, whoever you are (but I have a pretty good idea of who you are: read: the bitch below me who blasts her fucking music.)

Newsflash, asshole - that elevator? It's an extension of my home. I fucking own 3.56 percent of that elevator, and you puked in it. That's like puking in 3.56 percent of my home. I don''t even know you, and I don't make it a habit of inviting strangers into my house and allowing them to spit-up in their mouths, over the sink so I sure as hell don't think it's okay for you to hurl in the elevator...

We don't live in the Flamingo, fucktard. And none of us in the Building are freshmen in college anymore. PUKING IN THE ELEVATOR IS NOT. OKAY. I don't care if you have to puke in your purse or into your shirt in the future... what you did is NOT. OKAY.

And furthermore, I got home at 1:50 a.m. I pussed out and went home as the party was starting, because I needed not to be in terrible shape...today.

You? You were past wrecked when you got home... earlier than me, which is a TOTAL party foul. Clearly, you don't know how to drink. That saddens me. Maybe it's because I went to a large mid-western State school, but.. I know how to drink. And you, do not. People who can't hold their liquor sadden me -- encountering people who can't hold their liquor, when it directly affects me, infuriates me.

I think I know who you are. And you can be damn sure when your lease comes up for re-renewal this year, if I'm still on the Board, you're not going to stay in this Building. You're "Auf'd."

So let me point out for you, where you went wrong, so in the future, when you're living SOMEWHERE ELSE, you don't get thrown out for your assaholic behavior:

1) You got WRECKED. Wrecked to the point of puking. Who pukes, anymore? I'm the youngest person in this building, and I'm 28. I don't get that wrecked. Because 1) it's inappropriate and 2) it makes you feel like shit the next three days.

2) You got WRECKED early. (Pathetic.)

3) You got WREKCED EARLY, and ate Hawaiian pizza. How do I know? There was a fucking PINEAPLE CHUNK in your vomit on the floor of the elevator. Hawaiian pizza is only eaten by idiots and assholes - pineapple doesn't belong on pizza. I hate you.

4) You fucking bent over and fucking emptied your STOMACH CONTENTS on the CARPET on the FLOOR of the ELEVATOR, where everyone needs to push the buttons. You did this between 10:30 p.m. and 1:50 a.m. You are an inconsiderate, retarded asshole, who sucks at life. I hope tomorrow you have to be in the elevator with your drying vomit, and the smell so sickens you, you can't eat your bullshit Hawaiian pizza ever again. Fuck you. I hope you retch all the way to wherever you have to go, and I hope while you're dry-heaving, you give yourself a hernia. Seriously.

I mean, why didn't you just take down your pants and take a dump on the floor, while you're at it? Same thing, right? Only about six hours difference?

Are you THREE? Can you not control your bodily functions? I can tell a good fifty seconds before I'm going to puke - and you know what I do? I head for a toilet. If there's none around, I CERTAINLY don't enter a confined public space, for the inevitable to happen where others are going to have to deal with it. We live on a CANAL, for fuck's sake! What's wrong with feeding the fish! Additionally, YOU'RE NOT THE ONLY PERSON WHO USES THE ELEVATOR. FUCK YOU.

Seriously.

Whoever you are - you win the biggest fucking asshole award of the day.

I hope you don't aspirate on your own vomit tonight.

Oh wait. Yes, yes I do. I hope you choke on your own barf. Sounds harsh? Life's a bitch, honey. And so are you.

Shithead.

Yours,

Me.