Maybe Switch to Decaf.

Dear Lady On Her Cell Phone In The Line At Tim Horton's This Morning,

Just to tell you, the rest of us can hear you. Oh, boy, can we hear you.

You may have thought that because we couldn't hear the person on the other end of your inane conversation, that your part was inaudible to us all as well. But I can assure you, you were deafening. And we were trapped. It was excruciating.

For future reference, let me list the Things That Complete Strangers Do Not Want To Know About You: , your dream last night, your last workout routine, what you ate yesterday, how fat you feel today based on your last workout routine and what you ate yesterday, how busy you are ,that girl at the party who talked to your boyfriend and her probable acceptance of anonymous sexual partners in the past and in the future, the relative intelligence and speed of the people working behind the counter at Tim Hortons.

This last one was especially audacious, I thought, because of your heady gamble that the people working behind the counter wouldn't serve you a large double-double with milk and a sneeze ASAP.

Mostly, I think you should know that virtual privacy is not real privacy. Everyone can still hear you, even when you think they shouldn't be listening. So, in the future, could you please dial down the bellowing delivery and the honking laughter? That way we wouldn't have had to plan your violent and immediate death while waiting for our morning coffee. I can assure you, it was exhausting adding that to my "to do" list for the day.

Thank you so much for your consideration, even if I didn't have it at 8:30 this morning.

Sincerely,
Mrs. Loudshoes.