An Open Letter to the Two-Bit Thief On The Eighth Floor Who Stole My Three Zephyrhills Five-Gallon Water Bottles

You little punk! Did your mother not make you birthday cakes when you were a kid? Did your father refuse to throw the wiffle ball for you in the backyard? Did the tooth fairy give you carrots instead of coins? Did someone tell you Santa Claus was a hoax dreamed up by unimaginative toy manufacturers and greedy marketers when you were peering out your bedroom window one Christmas eve? Some kids never even get to celebrate it. Did your parents drop you off at the wrong bus stop? Seriously, what’s wrong with you? Do I need to call the University of Florida police to taser you or are you going to give me back my bottles? Give me back my #$%& water bottles you $%&#. Sorry. Would you please return my water bottles? Do I need to call Ellen Degeneris to cry for me? Just tell me what you want me to do. I want my bottles back. You can reach me at my job at Abbott Laboratories in Fort Lauderdale. I actually store urine samples in those bottles so I need them back for some tests we're running tomorrow. I hope you didn’t…