In an open letter to the gentleman who diagnosed the problem with my washing machine,

“Hi! I’m glad that you were able to tell me what the problem is. Thanks for that. I guess that I also appreciate your admiration of my president Pez dispensers. I was less of a fan of the way that you walked around them so that you could fully take them in. I didn’t mind your comments on how cool you thought my son’s Rubik’s cubes are. While I thought it was strange that you pulled a chair from the table and sat down while you gave me the receipt for my downpayment for the upcoming scheduled repair, I didn’t quite mind it. My eyebrow raised a bit when you said that I couldn’t possibly do THAT much baking and cooking as you eyed my cookbooks. It’s when you continued that line of small talk and commented that I don’t weigh 350 pounds, informing me that ‘the best cooks always do’ that I put you firmly in the taking liberties category.”

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