Dear Mr. Distribution Technician and Esteemed Purveyor of the Tennessean:
Thank you for nearly mowing my dog and I over this morning at 5:20 as you entered my cul-de-sac doing 40mph and on the wrong side of the road.
Though you sent me literally diving for the curb whilst simultaneously snatching one of my two new pups from the wrath of your vehicle, I still apparently managed to offend you with my adrenaline fueled exclamation of, “WHOA WHOA WHOA!”.
Clearly, I now see, that I was the one at fault. After all, your one line explanation as you sped off in the other direction did make sense…
“Hey buddy, I had my flashers on.”
I suppose that next time I shall explain myself by simply stating, “Sorry man, I was just airing out my spike strips.”
Thanks in advance for understanding,
Jeffrey, Sophie, & Ender