Cease and Desist Letter

"Dude, we dropped our hookah in the Metro and it shattered everywhere and the bus drivers were all laughing at us... how ignorant is that?"

These were the kinds of conversations that made it difficult to read in a coffee shop. After the girl complained about the less than sensitive livery workers, her friend explained his plan for upward movement at the Burger King he worked at.

"I'm the only one there who knows all the jobs. They can't afford to lose me."

I was waiting for Mads, my Norwegian companion, to meet me, and he was fifteen minutes late. An older man approached the kids' table and spoke to the girl.

"You know you'd be very attractive if you took all those nasty piercings out and washed your hair."

"Wow, that's a nice suit," she said. "Do you work for GM?"

"No... why?"

"Aww, that's too bad. Otherwise you could trade in that dumbass face for a Caddy."

Oh, snap! How could that line come from the same girl that had the unfortunate hookah accident? I had little time to ponder, as Mads finally showed. Before I could inquire as to his tardiness, he dropped a letter in front of me, printed on McDonald's letterhead.

It was a cease and desist order, signed by the big man himself. Apparently Mads' idea of a McDonald's is not contiguous with the brand they're trying to project.

"What do you think of that?" He said.

"That's very ignorant."