Dear guy ahead of me on the escalator at Sears on Friday morning:
Thanks so much for that gigantic sneeze that you unloaded right before you stepped off the escalator, leaving me no choice but to walk into the mushroom cloud of contamination you left behind, seeing as I was right behind you, and you were too busy texting to bother to, you know, cover your mouth or anything.
What started out as a sore throat on Saturday has now grown into a full-blown, nasty-ass cold, all thanks to you, Mister "I'm too involved leaving important text messages to bother about the well-being of those around me".
Hey, at least I'll be feeling better in a few days. I hope your next girlfriend gifts you with an STD, you bastard. Karma's a bitch.
Oh, and texting on the escalator at Sears, for God's sake, does not make you cool. It makes you a dork.