To the boy who demanded I give him a Tic-Tac but had no need for the use of the word "please",
You think I forgot about you, didn't you? Well, I'm sure you remember as well as I do the incident that involves the Tic-Tacs that I wouldn't share with you.
I can only assume that you're still alive, demanding other strangers share the things they have bought with their own money with you, a pathetic child with no real friends who lives to annoy good people like myself. So I can therefore only imagine that you will at some point read this letter, or somebody else who can't stand you will read this letter, print it off and hand it to you. I, on the other hand, do not plan on giving you this letter personally, because I do not plan on meeting you ever again in my entire life.
In case I became lost in a sea of other people that you regularly are rude to, I will remind you of the situation we found ourselves in a few years ago. And how you cemented yourself as the most destructive force, natural or otherwise, in my life.
And all because you refused to say please when you asked for a Tic-Tac.
Maybe it was my fault - maybe I caused this by giving all the other kids nearby a Tic-Tac when they asked politely for one. The main difference, however, is the fact that you just wouldn't say please. You just wouldn't say it.
Everybody else was all: "May we please have a Tic-Tac please?" And I obliged, because I'm nice. But for some reason, even after I told you to say please, you still didn't quite grip the concept. And that, my dear friend, is why you did not get a Tic-Tac from me.
Perhaps it would have been better for both of us if I had just given you one. No, in fact, I know it would have been better for both of us, because then we would have been able to circumnavigate the next few years of our interactions, and I could have saved myself a world of torment. I mean, what possible brand of breathmint could be worth having a fifteen-year-old boy follow you around poking you at all opportunities? Non-stop. For two years. Two years of both of our lives were effectively wasted, all because of the fact that you weren't polite enough to ask for something like a normal person.
Apart from the overwhelming urge to hit you, the only thing I wanted to do was turn around and tell you: "Hey, kid, it's been two years. The Tic-Tacs are gone!" But this would only have spurred you on.
I only write this letter to help you understand the level of annoyance you caused me, and the continued annoyance you are probably causing other people, including your own parents, right now. Good luck in the real world, where manners are pretty much essential.
With fond thoughts (now that you are out of my life),
Your unofficial Tic-Tac supplier.