Dear Singing Guy

Dear Singing Guy,
Look around. It’s early and I’m tired so the tact I usually reserve for these pieces is in high-deman.
This isn’t fucking Carnegie Hall. This is a goddamn coffee shop.
So please take your Italian arias elsewhere.
Seriously, it sounds like a beached whale asking to be put out of its misery.
The beagle that’s baying outside?
It’s not howling for its owner.
It’s howling at what you generously call a singing voice.
So please, I beg of you, stop.


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