Short Letters

Dear Beatbox Boy on American Idol:

I think you might be kind of good. But tonight, it looked like you were wearing sweatpants. Even if you weren't, the fact that the pants distracted me from your singing was not good. Don't wear those again.

Dear Paula,

Your eyes and forehead don't seem to move. Straight up, what's up with the Botox?

Dear Leasing Office,

I'm extra cold tonight. Despite having both heaters in the living room on, despite having a long sleeve shirt and a hooded sweatshirt on. When I finished using the oven tonight, I turned it off, but left the oven door partially open, and even with that I'm still cold. Please pull your shit together and fix this. Not because I'm paying over $2500 a month in rent, but because I'm simply cold and there's no good reason for that.

Dear Nice Partner,

When you go run into Tuna's office to fart, and run out giggling, we ALL know about it. And we all lose a bit of respect for you. Never mind that today you completely stunk up the hallway for hours. Stop it - not all of us think it's funny. In fact, I think you're the only one who thinks it is. Tuna only laughs because it's not professional to cry.

Dear Britney,

Sometimes I notice myself being extra sensitive and getting teary at especially touching commercials, feeling snubbed at nothing significant, and I realize I'm in PMS-mode. I make a note of that, not literally, but I tuck it in the front of my head, and it's a little reminder to myself. "You're not 100% well in the head, don't make any rash decisions." Please feel free to use this concept for your life. Also, stop trusting new people, and go back to the people you've known for over five years. Stop going out clubbing, stop hooking up with boys, just hole up with your kids for a while and really focus on them. If you do that someplace other than a major city like LA or NY, you'll get less media coverage, and I bet that will make you feel a bit better.

Dear LEL,

Fuck you. Go spill your Coke or coffee and shut up. Oh, and "spe-ci-a-li-ty" with five syllables is NOT a word.

Dear Tuna,

Stop throwing your time sheet at me. It's not "a fun way to catch it" but it's just making you look like a prick. I like you a lot, except for this. If you don't cut it out, I won't lend you my umbrella anymore.

Dear Weather,

As you may or may not have noticed above, I'm cold. If you could warm up just a little, and stop with the wind, I'd be really appreciative. Thanks so much.

Dear Guy In Public Pay Bathroom in Justin Herman Plaza,

I'm really happy for you that you were having so much fun in there. I know you were, because I heard you screaming, "Yeah! OH YEAH!" Good for you for finding fun in an unlikely location. San Francisco clearly has something for everyone.