Monthly Archives: December 2010

Dear Christmas-Eve-Day Shoppers

Dear Christmas-Eve-Day Shoppers, I understand that various circumstances have thrust you into the unfortunate position of last-minute shopping. I respect those circumstances and everything you have gone through. However, I think I speak for all members of any customer-service-based operation when I say this: I am not to blame for your stress. I have been here all season, helping customers find items. Today begins the eighth day in a row that I have worked. I’ve been pulling full-time hours when I’m a part-time employee. I have been helpful and nice and will continue to be so through closing hours today. Considering all of that, please keep in mind that whatever circumstances put you in this understandably stressful position-be it a forgetful spouse, a tyrannical employer, a late paycheck or simple laziness-were not caused by me or any of my fellow employees. Therefore, I’m requesting hours before my work day begins that you act nice and cheerful and friendly. Or at least refrain from being rude.

And please don’t do that thing where you talk to me like I’m not a human being. I haven’t had that happen in awhile, and I’d prefer for things to stay that way.

I thank you for listening to my request. Have a wonderful Christmas!



Dear Old Men Everywhere

Dear Old Men Everywhere,

I understand there is an unspoken code that you are allowed to occasionally say and do things that you were not allowed to say and do when you were younger. At times, it’s endearing, such as when one of you regularly stops by the customer service desk at my place of employment to make a “complaint” that our company discriminates by only hiring beautiful women. Said by a man younger than you, that comment would come across as creepy or flirtatious, but because of your age, it is excused.

However, you cannot, I repeat, cannot say and do anything you would like. For instance: when one of you grabbed my hand yesterday all while playing Keep-Away with the piece of paper I needed from him, that was creepy. Not endearing. Not cute. Creepy.

Please keep in mind that you still need to consider your actions. Even when you’re older.


Dear Freakin’ Chestnuts of Doom

Dear Freakin’ Chestnuts of Doom,

You tricked me into buying you. I saw you in that bin at the grocery store, all shiny and pretty as unshelled nuts generally are. Ninety-nine cents a pound! You probably knew that I can rarely pass by anything under a dollar – especially something new and exciting. I had never eaten you, but just the mention of your name brought to mind Nat King Cole singing “The Christmas Song” and chestnut vendors on the streets of New York during Christmas in the early twentieth century. These romantic ideas coupled with the seemingly cheap price all but forced me to buy two whole pounds of you.

I now understand why you were so inexpensive. Your shells are made of some sort of nature-made forcefield, and that horridly stringy skin under the shell is ten times harder to take off than your shells. I’ve followed all directions on how to roast and peel you and I’ve yet to harvest one whole nut. I’m currently wondering how people even figured out that you were edible in the first place. I suspect there was divine revelation involved.

Well, I give up, Freakin’ Chestnuts of Doom. I’ve already wasted too much time trying to peel you. I need to go clean my room now. And you need to go to your new room AKA the trash can.


P.S. You owe me two bucks. Seriously.

Dear Puppies

Dear Puppies Everywhere,

I love you all an awful lot! From your wiggly playfulness to that smell that only puppies have, I think you’re awesome. I want to bring you all to my home and set you free to run amuck in my backyard. I had a dream last night that I was going to take one of you home with me. The sad reality of life is that one of my roommates is allergic to you and two of my roommates don’t care for you all that much. Plus, you’re expensive, and I’m still saving up for a car. Perhaps I can get one of you in a few years. Oh, what a day that will be!


Dear Tuesday

Dear Tuesday,

I’m sure Texas is blackmailing you or has some other way of getting you to torture its residents. However, a high temperature of 80 degrees in the middle of December seems a tad extreme. Please change your plans for the temperature post haste.


Dear Self

Dear Self at 3 A.M.,

I know you were disappointed that, after months of waiting for the release of TRON, you fell asleep thirty minutes into the film. I also understand that when you are awakened after only two hours of sleep, you tend to be a bit edgy. However, you really shouldn’t whine so much.

Think about that and stop the crankiness before it starts next time.


P.S. Please pass on this message to Self at 4 A.M.: Why in the world did you think reading a synopsis of The Shining was a good idea? Especially when you live in a creaky, old house?

Dear Washing Machine

Dear Washing Machine That Allegedly Holds 50 Pounds of Laundry,

I remain convinced that the sign above you is faulty. I know what 50 pounds feels like; I have to lift many objects of various sizes for my job and therefore know that lifting 40 pounds is my limit. I was able to lift the basket full of laundry which I put in you with some ease, and yet your drum is full. Clearly either you or the sign should change.

All that being said, I am grateful for you, Washing Machine. You allow me to wash multiple loads of laundry at one time for a reasonable price. I’m not entirely thrilled with having to pay for laundry in general, but I am thankful that you are there for me when I need you.

I wish you well in your high-capacity life.