Dear Man at Victoria's Secret

I would just like to say that sometimes people really just...ummm...suck. While shopping with Charlie I had an interesting and embarrassing and awkward experience.

This what I have to say about it.....


Dear Man with no boundaries shopping at Victoria's Secret,

I do not appreciate you reaching between my legs to grab my very obedient service dog and then continuing to pet him despite his bright red vest that clearly says says "please don't pet me I'm working" and your childrens' plees of "Daddy you aren't supposed to pet that dog. See it says so right there." and my stammering for you to kindly stop. I also do not like your ridiculous comment that "It is okay, I have a golden retriever."

What in the hell does that mean? Since you have a golden retriever you are now

• A. certified to harass those with disabilities
  
• B. free to pet a random stranger's dog without asking and
  
• C. allowed to be a jerk

I also do not appreciate how you finally saw the sign that says "I am a service dog" and then continued to asked me "what is wrong with you?" as if having a service dog makes one diseased or freakish. When I sheepishly and stupidly answered that I have seizures, I am appalled by your response of shaking uncontrollably and faking a seizure while saying to me and your children "everybody watch out. Don't have a seizure now!"

I think it is a crime you were allowed to procreate.

Truly,

Leah and Charlie