dear madam:

i would like, first, to begin by apologizing for my distinct failure to recognize the obviousness of your claim to the next available gasoline pump. a mere toddler would have understand that your place as third in line on the opposite side of the aisle far exceeded any rights i had as next in line immediately behind the exiting vehicle – a witless blunder that undoubtedly is to blame for our subsequent unpleasantness.

which bring me to my second task, wherein i wish to clarify my stunned and initially immobile response. surely you must have interpreted my stillness as defiance towards your evident privilege… at least, i presumed as much by the urgency with which you gestured at me through the windshield of your red, ford mustang. gentle lady, i assure you that this was not so. rather, i was merely overcome with shame at the gravity of my misconduct. so deep was my indignation…er…desolation that it took a few moments to return to my senses. it may have taken even longer had you not so helpfully assisted me with your promises to “run my ass over” if i didn’t move my car with great haste. thank you for your generous assistance. you words were the cold shock needed to startle me into appropriate action.

yet, as you know, i foolishly was not content to adhere to our mutual understanding for long. though i did surrender you the use of the gasoline pump, i quickly moved to the neighboring pump as soon as it became available. i must confess, my motives were not pure, as i, full of malicious intent, addressed you face to face.

it here that i arrive at my final task: to humbly beseech your mercy for the egregious words i did speak to you. where was my head when i dared to inquire: “were you seriously going to run me over for a tank of gas?” far be it from me to question the actions of one so vastly superior! yet you, in your great kindness, deigned to respond saying, “listen, bitch, i waited a hell of a lot longer than you.” oh stars! the glory of your voice as you called me by name! who is worthy of such an honor?! and yet, my predatory nature would not be surfeited, for i returned with words dripping in disrespect: “whatever helps you sleep at night.” alas! and has my soul wept since. my only solace is that perhaps, some sweet day, my penance may be paid and i can once again be blessed with the honor of your presence, that i might be able to fully express my sentiments in person.

yours ever facetiously,