People I spotted this morning.
To the 50-year-old, gray-haired, poncho-wearing lady driving a smoke-belching Toyota Echo and looking loathingly at the SUV next to you at the stoplight this morning: The Paul Wellstone sticker on your bumper is redundant.
To the young woman wearing a security guard uniform: Authority projected by a uniform and badge is completely negated by inch-long bright-red fingernails and three-inch heels (unless they're some sort of James Bond evil henchman heels that shoot bullets).
To the guy smoking a cigarette outside an office building: Just because you're holding your Weekly Estimated Net Usage Statistics report in your hand doesn't mean that smoke break isn't really a smoke break. Everyone in your office knows you only work five hours a day.
To the heavily tattooed and pierced bike messenger who actually stopped at a red light and let me pass in front of him: Wow, there's a first time for everything. Thanks dude.
To my wife and children: Oh, never mind; I didn't see any of you this morning because you were still asleep when I left for work.