I spent a little time cleaning out the closet today (that almost qualifies as a new experience in and of itself) and came across a box of mementoes. I completely forgot about this box, and it took some effort to lift off the lid because of the thick layers of dust weighing it down.
This is one of those times when an opportunity for a “first” presented itself. I can unequivocally say that I have never posted a love letter online.
Ok, ok….so this one can hardly be called a “love letter,” but it is at least a “like letter.” Not a very well-written one, or the least bit romantic. He does get right to the point, so I guess he gets kudos for directness. But still:
(1) He spelled my name wrong. I blocked it out to keep my anonymity, but take my word for it. He butchered it. Classy!
(2) His bubble handwriting is that of a 12-year old girl’s. All that’s missing is the heart over the “i”.
(3) He wanted to take me out that night? And it’s 4:45 when he asked? Either he assumed I never have plans or that I would drop anything I had intended to do to be in his presence. Wrong on both accounts. I mean, my plans were probably something along the lines of sorting my colors and whites, but still…
(4) Notice that it is written on a scrap of paper. Again, c*l*a*s*s*y.
In case you’re wondering, this isn’t from My Peeta. I’m sorry to say I don’t remember much about this bloke except that I referred him to my friend, who desperately wanted to ride around in his Porche.
I said to him, “Dude, take out Barbie (not her real name, though it would have been apt). She’s tall and blonde, and will look better in your car.”
He was p*ssed, but, of course, he did take her out. (Like I said: Barbie).
When I debriefed her later, she confided that his car didn’t make up for the lack of intelligent conversation.
Unlike My Peeta, I don’t think I’ll be trying to track down Chris anytime soon…
Each day of 2014, I’m
forcing encouraging myself to have at least one new experience (and chronicling it to keep it real). If you’re interested in why–though I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone would be that bored–check out the “about” page.