fifty-five cents

Dear gentleman from North Carolina,

I enjoyed our conversation today. You're in from out of town and are seeing the sights. You ate at your hotel this morning, that's cool. I understand that you don't want to eat anything at the restaurant today. You seemed like a nice guy.

But then you found out that your two beers came to $9.00. I'm sorry if you think that's expensive, which you told me, but perhaps you should have looked at the menus that I handed you and you refused to peruse. It's not my fault you ordered beers without looking at their prices on the menu. Even if you realized your mistake, you shouldn't have punished me for the high cost of the beer by leaving me a 55-cent tip.

Frankly, as broke as I am in the summer, I would have rather not dealt with your sorry ass than make fifty-five cents. That one tip you left me on a very slow day just ruined my mood.

Fifty-five cents. What are you even thinking that this could be acceptable? Are they really that cheap in North Carolina?

Fuck you very much,
Epiphany in Baltimore