A Reposted Letter

Dear Young Hipster on the L Train:

I know it's not your own fault; Mummy kept you on her teat your whole life and let no day go by without reminding you the world revolves around you. And we're all so proud that you work in an office that lets you use a backpack instead of a briefcase used by "the man." But on a crowded train, how bout moving aside some Panic at the Disco lyrics that are taking up space in your brain and think to take said backpack OFF YOUR BACK as it sticks out about 2+ feet behind you like a fucking cathode ray tube out of an old RCA. Take the bag off and place it at your fucking faux bowling shoes so that the rest of us poor saps can get in the fucking car.

Thanks!
XMASTIME