Dear guy at the gym tonight:
I'm not sure if it was the friendly hello smile I gave you as I passed you or the old Teamsters tee I was wearing, but the scowl you managed to throw my way every time we met on the track was *really* impressive.
Really, was it the union or was it the smile? I can barely keep control my breathing when I'm running, let alone muster such ill will about something, so good for you! It's just a frikken shirt. I wasn't asking you to sign up, I wasn't asking you anything.
Thanks though, my dad was the business agent who mostly loved his job. Now that he can no longer work, he'll at least get a kick out of the story. That makes up for your scowl any day. —Hoffa Jr.