Dear Tourist,

Dear Crabby Tourist Lady in the Light Blue Jacket Who Was at the Lebananon Mine on Sunday,

I don't know where you're from, but I'm wondering why you're here. Of course, I should be grateful that you're here in our state, spending your crabby tourism dollars when you could be doing it elsewhere, and in the end, I guess I am. Because afterall, I'm pretty sure tourism is the mainstay of our state.

But, must you be such a jackass when you're here? You're on vacation. Why aren't you happy about it? I didn't see you crack a smile, or even remove the grouchy look on your face, the entire time we were on the mine tour. And our guide was pretty darn funny.

I guess if you want to be a crabapple, go right ahead, but keep it to yourself next time.

I was willing to overlook your first snarky comment when we were all crowded around the mining cars selecting hard hats to wear into the mine. I apologize if we took too long to fit the helmets on our kids, but did you need to push in and say, "Can anyone else get a helmet?" It just made you sound like a crochety old bag, which you look every inch of. A more pleasant, "Excuse me," would have accomplished your goal nicely. Plus, did you not hear the guide suggest that people gather on both sides of the mining car to choose a helmet? Did you really need to barge into where we were working to get the helmets on the kids anyway?

But what really bugged me was when you tried to GRAB THE SILVER ORE SAMPLE OUT OF MY CHILD'S HAND later in the tour. Seriously? Grabbing a rock from a kid? Twice--once when another child was handing it to him and once when he tried to hand it to me. That's just rude. Did you think he was going to break the rock and you wouldn't get to see it?

I'm pretty sure when my other son then asked me, "Why didn't I get to see the rock?" and I responded somewhat loudly, "Because THAT lady apparently needs to see the rock sample RIGHT THIS VERY SECOND," that your husband heard me and was embarassed by your behavior because before I knew it, someone was handing the rock back to me. I don't know, maybe I just embarassed myself reciprocating with that kind of behavior, but I was pretty dismayed that an adult would act like that. Grabbing the rock from someone is something I'd expect my six-year-old son to do.

In the end, I feel sorry for your husband because he's dragging your annoying ass all through our great big state and probably having to listen to you snipe about this, that and the other thing for days on end. And I guess I feel sorry for you, too, because you can't apparently enjoy the beauty of what's around you enough to even crack a smile.

I hope you have a good trip home. Come back next year, bring your dollars, but please remember to pack a smile. Heck, go nuts and laugh a little, will 'ya?

But, before you really raise my ire, learn how to drive on a roundabout before you get here.