All Nurses are Fat?

Dear Raw Food Woman on the MARC Train,

As if Quiet Car Dictator wasn't enough, then there's you. Look, I'm not one for long conversations on the Quiet Car. All I want to do is sleep. But admittedly that can be difficult when the car is as packed as it was yesterday. But anyway - it was wonderful that you were so interested in the book the other person to our right was reading. That's cool, whatever. And I didn't mind our short exchange about what I did for a living. Fine. Whatever. In retrospect, I should have told you I was a stuntman for midgets.

But see, here's what I don't like. What I don't like is you then finding out where I work, and proceeding to preach to me about how the folks here don't know what they're doing, don't know what they're talking about and that nurses shouldn't be talking to people about trying to care for their Diabetes, and educating them on this horrible disease - based on your premise that all nurses are fat. ******** you and the raw squid you rode in on. I'm not going to go learn about eating raw food to cure diseases, and I don't care about the unhealthy levels of unhealthyness in my Diet Pepsi - and when I tried to gracefully and politely to exit the conversation by asking, "Hey, how 'bout those Red Sox?," it was rhetorical and I really didn't care to know that you grew up not liking baseball.

Now you'll forgive me, I'm sure, if I step aside for a few moments and flame-broil something for dinner.

And looking back, you probably have some moral objection to midget stuntman, too, so the next time I see you on the train, I'm going to run.

Maybe my favorite Army Woman can kick your ass with her one good ankle.

Signed,
Marc D. Rider