Dear people who whistle to themselves,

You may feel like a carefree, fun-loving soul as you stroll along whistling a jaunty tune. The world as you see it is a bright and shining sphere full of sunshine and joy. Besides, who needs iPods when they could be making their own music, right?

Or maybe you see yourself as an Omar Little kind of guy—you whistle to yourself because you don’t give a fuck. If the haters got a problem with it, they can relay their grievances from the business end of your 9mm. You feel like expressing yourself in frequently-atonal squeaks, and no one on this earth is going to tell you not to.

Or maybe it’s just that no one ever explained to you that whistling to yourself is weird.

Whatever your personal feelings on whistling may be, you make me feel like I’m being stalked in a horror movie—Please stop. There is nothing charming about suddenly hearing the invariably eerie sound of whistling suddenly spring up behind me as I’m walking home after dark.

So please, won’t you take a moment of your time to contribute to my emotional health and shut the fuck up.

Hugs and kisses,

Claire