Now, in the interest of full disclosure, I did not actually find this - although I did leave the house yesterday.
(It was a big day - I went OTP* and hit both Hobby Lobby and WalMart.
Never let it be said that I don't know how to party...)
No, Bubba found this for me in the street in front of his office building. "It was as if someone had flung it to the pavement in disgust after finding it on their windshield," he said.
Do you now see why I love this man? Most men, heck most people even, probably wouldn't even have noticed it. But not my sweetie - he not only noticed it, but read it. And after looking at this written piece of pure malice and road rage, he didn't just walk off and leave it.
Nope - instead he thought, "I bet my wife would love this," and he picked up this little scrap of ire, and brought it home proudly to me.
And he was sooo right - this just made me unaccountably happy. I tee-hee'd over this all night. Nothing like a little scheudenfreude to brighten a girl's day... ( I swear, I think I like the mean little note more than the lovely flowers - what does that say about me??? And the warped little cinder that passes for my heart??)
I have long been a fan of Davy Rothbart's Found - both the books and the website. There is something unaccountably pleasing about stumbling over a little piece of someone else's life. I am always keeping an eye out for "found" objects of my own, but rarely do I ever stumble across anything this good...
*Isn't one of the signs of addiction is that you begin furtively traveling to out-of-the-way neighborhoods in a desperate attempt to fuel your habit???