Dear Lady that brought her dog to Target

I had to go to Target to buy some outdoor Christmas lights.  I had drunk a 2 liter of Dr. Pepper 10, and I had to find a manly outlet for my surging testosterone, so I elected to hang Christmas lights.

You were in the Christmas section with your daughter.  I would have noticed you from the ungodly jogging suit you were wearing, but you amped it up.  You had some sort of Terrier running around in your cart.  I can even see how you got it in here.  You have a purse in which your ten year old daughter could have been smuggled into the store.  I should have called those lunatics from PETA then and there, and they would have choked their rivers with your dead. 

What you are teaching your child is that if there is a rule that you don't like, you can break it.  I mean, who cares if she has a dog in Target?  I do, because I have to live by the rules, so you should too.  Society agrees upon rules that you must follow to be a part of that society.  If you break those rules, I should be allowed to hammer punch you in the clavicle. 

I stared at you, then got angry slanty eyes at you, and you just smiled at me then got in my way.  You stoked my anger with your indifference, so I went middle school and told on you to the nearest store associate.

Which brings me to the next point.

Dear Target associate,
When I tell you that the soccer mom in the Christmas section has a dog in the store, which has to be against store policy, do not tell me it isn't hurting anything.  You could at least humor me and pretend to call it in on your walkie talkie.  To tell me that the dog isn't hurting anything is to spit in my face.  So, when I lost my cool, it was your fault.

I told you that it must be ok to smoke in the store then, and pulled out my pack of cigarettes.  You threatened to have me ejected from the store.  If a dog, which people can be highly allergic to, is allowed to be in the store, then I should get to smoke.  If the rules are being thrown out the door, I intend to party.  Again you threatened to throw me out.  I proceeded to make the valid statement that apparently, I should be able to walk around the store with my penis out, and you became even more beligerent.  My penis isn't going to hurt anyone.  Why can't it get some air?  Is it because my wang represents justice, or is it becomes my penis is a becon of truth illuminating the hypocrisy of Target's store rules that apply to some, but not to all?

I demand an answer, or when I come back on Tuesday, you will know me by my trail of smoky, wang dangling vengeance.