Kalah Allen

Dear fuckhead: You live in a city. That means squeeze onto the bus, don’t block the door, and exit to the back. That sweet old woman with the walker standing in the rain can’t board because your confused, entitled ass is too dense to realize we could easily fit 20 more people on here. Squeeze in! Your “Oh, there’s no more room, we’re sardines in here” bullshit wouldn’t fly in New York or Chicago, where drivers aren’t worried about snotty Yelp reviews—they’ll kick your ass. I do my best to provide friendly encouragement to you as you look like a deer in the headlights, standing in front of all those seats behind you. But honestly? I hope you get cancer, that your kids experience addiction, and that me-maw and pap-pap can finally get on the bus despite your obscene need for “comfort space” on public transit—which everyone should be able to access equally, you piece of shit. Squeeze your ass in and count your blessings this isn’t a bigger city, where rats, scabies and ass-whoopings abound.—Anonymous