Dear Mr. Man-ners:
I’m a middle-aged man who is somewhat overweight, with hair that is translucent (going transparent). On top of this I am gay. So, tell me why a beautiful pharmacist (who looked like Cheryl Tiegs in her heyday) would ignore the Pakistan customer in front of me while dealing with his drugs, but then suddenly tell me all the ins and outs of my medications…in a flirtatious way?
Confused
Dear Confused:
SHE WAS DOING HER JOB YOU DUMBASS! Okay. I’ve got several questions. Were you flirting back? Did you NOT pose a sexual threat? Was she white and you white? Maybe she was a bigot. Maybe she’s got a thing for overweight men. Maybe you big fat ass, you reminded her of her father! I don’t know. I don’t care. And I’m damned sure no one else does besides you. If you’re that desperate for attention that you think some blonde bombshell would hit on you while refilling your prescription—you should buy love from some local on the street corner. You need help!
Mr. Man-ners
Dear Mr. Man-ners:
Okay, now I’ve heard everything. My mother told me about this new scam. NO she is NOT a scam artist. I know how you think and it’s just not so. She heard it somewhere. I don’t know where. Get off it! Anyhow, it’s a new scam. I guess you eat at a restaurant (or buy something where they take away your credit card), but when they return the credit card, what you get is some OLD expired one that’s NOT yours. Of course, like most people you don’t look at it. Instead you put it into your wallet and forget about it. Then when you see the $15,000 bill (this supposedly did happen, per Mom) you are STUCK with a HUGE portion (this guy was liable for $9,000. What do you think about that?
Momma’s Daughter
Dear Momma’s Daughter:
You’re a Momma’s girl! That’s worse than being a Daddy’s girl because, well, it’s just worse. Anyhow, what do I think? I think I need to open a restaurant pronto! I’d think that it’d be easy to figure out who stole the credit card and to prosecute them to the fullest extent of the law (in this case, I think I’d HANG them, since I’m SO over identity/credit card theft/fraud).
Mr. Man-ners
Dear Mr. Man Yours:
You have soooo many weird readers. But after reading your column just once I understand why.
Incognito
Dear Incontinent (If the shit fits, wear it!):
I know, and I count you amongst my readers. What are you a lard brain? You read it once, because it took you 15 years to read ALL those big words and figure out their definitions.
Mr. Man-ners
Dear Mr. Man-ners:
Help me. I need help. Professional help. I have this fear I’m going to do something really awful. What can I do?
Loosing It
Dear Loosing It:
What are you loosing? Your virginity? Your mind? Your sanity? If it’s your sanity, get some help (and make sure to go on TV and tell everyone, like all of Dr. Phil’s guests!). If it’s just life is troubling you—get over it! We all have those days. Just remember my credo and repeat it like a mantra: I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! And pretty soon you’ll be able to deal with life just like I do. How, you ask? It’s none of your business. If you fail at this, remember: I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care!
Mr. Man-ners
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