I'll be borrowing the format from Bethany's blog for this entry as it's the best way to get this point across.
Dear Mr. Mustache,
It is unnecesary to call me brother or man, or dude when speaking to me. Your dark sunglasses worn inside the building only frame your GIANT mustache and make me laugh even harder on the inside. The fact that you never once use the words please and thank you make me sad and angry all at the same time. The fact that you pulled up doing a smooth 45 mph cutting off two cars to take up three parking spots in my parking lot was not a good way to set our meeting off to a good start. I have met your kind before, the "I have four dollars to my name, but I want to sample everything you have in your deli so I don't have to make supper tonight" people. I have met you before and done battle with you before. If you want more than a sliver of a taste, you should pay for it. Those retro sunglasses you seem so fond of must have cost at least $3.00 at the local Dollar Tree, are you telling me you can't afford $1.25 of summer sausage. Your quip about how it would be nice if I had the summer sausage unpacked so you could sample it does not make me feel guilty. Your tricks are no good here, you would not have purchased any anyway, so I feel no loss as you leave with an empty stomach. I myself have no money and I'm not about to give handouts to people that will never return.
And while we are at it, why do you ask if the sandwich spread was made fresh this morning..could you tell me differently if I lied? Is your pallet so in tune with month old frozen meat that you can distinguish the sandwich spread production dates? Would you believe me if I told you I made it last week? Or did you really believe me when I said I made it just this morning? How would you know the difference?
So you can take your submissive wife, your fading blue Chrysler and your HUGE mustache and just walk your way out of my store and my life for good. Leave the mustaches to the pros in the 70's, because you sir, can not pull it off.