Open Letters Love Amy

Because the Internet is easier than buying stamps and I will just lose your zip code anyway.

Tag: coffee shops

An Open Letter To This Girl In The Coffee Shop

Dear Girl,

Be quiet.

Dogs wearing human shoes is not worth this much “awww”-ing. Save it for two kittens cuddling.

If you want to have incredibly high volume reactions to television commercials, do it in the comfort of your own home.

Love, Amy

An Open Letter To This Coffee Shop Patron

Dear Coffee Shop Patron,

So your big idea of the morning was to treat your self to a “fresh squeezed orange juice with lots of ice?” Are you aware that for the same price (I’m guessing $4) you can get an entire bottle of orange juice at Ralph’s and add as much ice as you want? Or you could buy a ton of oranges and squeeze them yourself. If you’re requesting all that ice there is going to be about a tablespoon of actual orange juice involved. Not a huge bang for your buck.

But do whatever you want. I’m sure the baristas enjoy a change of pace from all the no-fat-vanilla-lattes people are demanding today.

Love, Amy

An(other) Open Letter To Commissary Coffee

Dear Commissary Coffee,

Look, I like you guys. Everyone who works at you is fantastic, the Egg Slut is almost always parked outside if I need a snack and your free WiFi works at a nice speed. But yesterday I ran into a serious issue. I don’t mean to be bossy (or judgmental but I’m totally going to be so get ready), but in the future please DO NOT allow people who have the following conversations to buy coffee from you and then sit at a table close enough to me that I can hear them (these are all exact quotes I dictated them because I could not believe my ears).

Conversation 1 (about the giant dog at another table nearby) –
Girl: I’ve got a dog that’s like sixty pounds.
Boy 1: Fer real? That’s f**kin’ heavy what you doin with that? He take care of you?

Conversation 2 (about recent film The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo) –
Boy 1: I thought the whole thing was gonna be hella crazy but then it just wasn’t. I mean it was a sexy movie though.
Boy 2: Aren’t they doin another one?
Boy 1: Yeah man there’s three books the next one is like ‘The Girl with Some Other Sh*t.’ Books are always better than the movie they probably rushed that sh*t to get it to two hours.
Girl: Yeah.
Boy 1: Like, I didn’t like they tried to make a parallel to the social welfare guy raping Mara Rooney and the dad raping the daughter before and it just didn’t work.

Conversation 3 (about Coachella) –
Boy 1: It’s three days two times! There’s two weekends that sold out in three hours.
Boy 2: Sh*t man, I’d be hella inta goin.
Boy 1: Yeah I’m down we shoulda got tickets it’s a hella lineup.
Boy 2: Honestly, Radiohead’s gonna kill it.

Conversation 4 (about a neightborhood in LA, I didn’t catch which one exactly) –
Girl: I mean, I didn’t mind livin there.
Boy 1: It was a good place geographically. Errythin was like ten twenty minutes and sh*t. I mean there’s something fun about the ghetto.

First of all, learn some new words other than “hella” and “sh*t.” Second, her name is Rooney Mara. Third, dogs don’t take care of people, even sixty pound ones. Fourth, there are actually three weekends of Coachella. Fifth, the word “everything” has a ‘V’ in it.

The only thing that made you letting these people near me worse was that right after I left you, I went to Plancha and EVEN WORSE people were there having a loud obnoxious conversation. None of my safe places are safe anymore and I’m scared, please help me.

Love, Amy

An Open Letter To Commissary

Dear Commissary,

Every time I go to you I feel like I am cheating on King’s Road. But you have free WiFi, which is helpful. Then the other day you really sold me by playing Madman Across the Water in full. None of this Elton John’s Greatest Hits garbage where all you hear is Candle in the Wind and Your Song. Madman is from a time when Elton John was more about music than he was about glitter and though I didn’t live in that time, I was raised on that music and it’s just good stuff. It’s nice to hear it in all its glory, not just the big hits. So thank you.

Love, Amy

P.S. If you ever play Crocodile Rock we are going to have a serious problem and I will make our break up as miserable for you as possible.

An(other) Open Letter To Jane Lynch

Dear Jane,

Get out of my way.

I do not care one bit that you are hosting the Emmys. If you stand in front of the milk at the King’s Road to go counter and refuse to move because you are too busy waiting for your coffee and composing the perfect ‘look at me I am so very famous and important’ face I am going to tattle on you to Johnny. Than maybe I can get some milk and go home to my bed and last night’s DVRed episode of Project Runway.

Love, Amy