Dear Reader,

When did it become encouraged to be an inarticulate fool? Why is it that incomplete sentences, and thus incomplete ideas, dominate the landscape of my life, courtesy of, most obviously, the young women discoursing by the subway entrance?

Why is it acceptable to pepper one's conversation with "like" and "you know" fashioned into vague articles of speech, and conclude one's remarks with the query "you know what I mean?"

I would know what you meant, or so I presume, if you went to the trouble of actually expressing what you meant, instead of stringing together a motley assemblage of grunts.

Homo sapiens is "thinking man". Prove to me we are the same species. Please!

Dear Sir, I Am Not Your "Darlin'"

I am not related to you by blood, marriage, or other choices, nor are you topping up my coffee cup at an all-night truck stop. I am not your "darlin'."

You are using this diminutive in an attempt to dismiss me and my concerns because you are embarrassed.

You are embarrassed for two reasons: 1) you know you were in the wrong; 2) you've been called out by a woman. You didn't call the man who approached you for the same reason as I, mere moments before, "darlin'," did you?

While I am an extremely nice, accommodating tyrant (almost all librarians are), I will have you charged as a public nuisance if needs be.

I am a generally cheerful person, plump and with a pleasant personality. It takes a lot to truly piss me off. Lately, the rampant sexism in our society has been annoying me EVEN MORE THAN USUAL RECENTLY.