The Man - 1 Cyndi - 0

In an effort to stick it to the man, I have decided to sell my plasma. The man is very much so content to sit back and watch me not get a job in a city of hundreds of job seeking college students so by selling my plasma, I was going to stick it to the man. Ha. In your face man.
Donating plasma is quite a process and the first time is a three hour process. You must of your social security card, picture ID, and proof of residence that uses your full name. For some reason that plasma people did not consider my last letter, addressed to Cyndi The Hutch, and said I needed an official letter to Cynthia Maria Hutch. I can't remember the last time I got a letter sent to my apartment with my full name and I would bet that it has never happened.
I explained this problem to the not so kind worker that would later prick my finger and squeeze my blood out of it. (Sorry for those who are squirmish, it is a little bit like that seen in the Indiana Jones movie where they eat that stuff that is still moving a little bit with tentacles and puckery gross stuff) (Sorry again). The not so kind lady told me that they would let me donate this time but that I needed to bring a properly addressed envelope next time if I expected to sell my plasma again. Apparently they are worried that my plasma might have stolen an identity?
So I wrote myself a letter. Dang, what a letter. Anyone would be lucky to receive this letter so I was feeling pretty smug. Take that Man.
I addressed the letter to Cynthia Maria Hutch and dropped it down the slot for outgoing mail in my apartment complex's mailboxes.
It wasn't until I picked up today's mail and read the address on the letter for my roommate.
I did not put what apartment I am in.

...

The Man - 1 Cyndi - 0
(I googled the man and this is what came up. Not a bad movie)