An Open Letter To The Lady Who Didn’t Smile At Me When I Held The Door Open For Her

You may remember me from last night. I was the guy walking the little black dog making my way into the building at about the same time you were. From our respective paces and my fine grasp of differential calculus I could tell that our arrival at the door would be almost simultaneous. Being the evolved human being that I am I made a snap judgment to quicken my pace slightly allowing myself to get to the door first. I opened the front door and gracefully stepped aside allowing you to enter first. As a sign of mutual respect I nodded my head and looked you in the eye.

My gesture was met with tight lips and soulless eyes.

Your reaction confused me to say the least as I’m convinced that there are certain social conventions for situations like this. For example waving when a car lets you cut in front or giving a reach around while fucking someone in the ass. It’s simply a matter of courtesy. A nod of the head or a half-smile is all that’s really expected of you and I don’t think that’s too much to ask.

Instead I receive a gaze that I haven’t encountered since that one time I was caught masturbating in church. My penis shrank just as much last night as it did then. In fact that icy stare is now imprinted onto my brain and I doubt I’ll ever be able to maintain an erection again. What did I do to deserve such wrath?

I began thinking that perhaps you were incredibly tired from a long day of crushing tiny rodents beneath your 6” heeled boots. Maybe your energy was so limited that it would take all your strength to reach your lonely junior one bedroom apartment and to crack a smile would have surely led to you collapsing in front of your door while the rest of your neighbours stepped over you and used your hair to rub the snow from their boots.

Or maybe you didn’t want to smile because you hate animals. The sight of someone caring for another creature was so foreign to you that there was no way to react but with disgust. It may have brought back memories of the time you tricked your family dog into eating a pin and calmly watched as it struggled and tore up it’s digestive system. Remember how upset your whore mother was when she got home? You just didn’t see what all the fuss was about. What about that doctor she sent you to after that? Must have been hard to experience that again when you saw me and my dog kindly get out of your way.

I’m not the type of person to expect a thank you for something as simple as holding open a door and I don’t even brag about most of the nice things I go around doing. In fact most of the time I’m a pretty inconsiderate, self-absorbed cunt like you. But I at least try to act as if I weren’t such a shithead and after glancing into your dead eyes last night I’ve resolved to think about others much more than I did before.

So in a way your complete lack of social skills has accomplished something good. Of course I’m sure that none of this makes any difference to you being the dog-torturing, lifeforce-draining harlot that you are. Hope I never have to stare at your wretched countenance again.

Regards.

Tony