Listen, scary facial lady with undefined Eastern European accent, stop yelling at me for having pimples. It’s not my fault, okay? No, I don’t always wash my face after I stumble home drunk, and yes, I buy cheap shit from Duane Reade, but I’m paying you $200, so just lay off. If I wanted all this emotional abuse and disapproval, I’d call my mother. God, it all just makes me want to please you even more.
Got a kvetch? Send your 75-word complaints to us at [email protected].
Leave a Reply