McSweeney’s Internet Tendency has a section called “OPEN LETTERS TO PEOPLE OR ENTITIES WHO ARE UNLIKELY TO RESPOND.” Here are a few of mine.
Dear Mr. President,
When I look at you and Michelle, I really can’t decide who’s hotter. Seriously.
Dear Stash Chai,
Your enormous degree of black pepper is what makes me love you best in a truly, madly, deeply kind of way. I want to marry you, because gay marriage in this country is a slippery slope.
Dear Adam (the bee that landed on my blanket at the last Outpost Block Party) ,
When I think about you, I cry. Seriously. I am not making this up. I am very emotional when it comes to you and the plight of your people. I mean, I’m writing to a probably dead bee. Do the math. However, I am a line cook at heart. Not a very good one, but one that struggles to be excellent. I am the Salieri to Kinkaid’s Mozart, but I am betting you haven’t seen Amadeus and wouldn’t get the reference if you were alive, anyway. If by happenstance you are still here, you should really check it out.
I know that you hate being called Adam because your name is really Bill, but Adam is my favorite character in Bee Movie. Get over it. We’ve had this discussion before. Don’t you buzz at me, young man. I have a newspaper and I know how to use it.
But the point about being a line cook is legit. When I think about honey with truffle salt sprinkled over the top, I lose my shit thinking that it won’t exist if we don’t DO SOMETHING.
I’m in your corner, buddy. Thanks for sitting with me. I never would have realized how cute and furry you were without being able to look at you that close up. You kind of look like a micromuppet.
Yup, that’s your new nickname. If you don’t like it, I will use my newspaper to change your name to Eric. Hope you like it Cyril Connolly, bitch.
And if you don’t get that reference, we can’t bee friends anymore.
Dear Hill Country Fare Diet Soda,
Thank you for giving me back a piece of my childhood. Thank you for being there for me in all of your sugar free strawberry, grape, orange, and pineapple glory. Thank you for being a little bit over-carbonated so that when you crack open the can, there is a very satisfying burst of energy and little bubbles that tickle my nose all the way to the end. Strawberry, thank you for being sugar free and still clearly tasting like diabetes. It’s the little things in life that turn out to be the not so little things. I once read an article about how lower-income people who can’t dream of travel should allow themselves small indulgences to make their daily lives more bearable. I realize that spending is not saving, but at the same time, it does make life look a little better with you in my hand on a daily basis. When I get mad at myself for spending money on soda, I comfort myself by saying “at least it’s not Starbucks.”So ya got that goin’ for ya. Hope it helps.
Dear Howard Schultz,
The first time I went to a Starbucks, my girlfriend picked me up before school so we could go on a date early in the morning. It’s important to note the time of day, because the sun wasn’t up. It is important to note the date- it was December.
I’m going to reiterate that. It was December, the sun wasn’t out, and I HAD NEVER BEEN TO A STARBUCKS BEFORE. I have no idea why, but I ordered a frappucino. Oh! I know. It’s because I like weird things and I’d never heard the word before. My girlfriend said, “are you sure? It’s got ice in it.” Inner monologue runs thusly……………………….
I will not let this girl think I’m an idiot. She already kind of does, so this will just enable her to tease me for the rest of her life….. some more….. I don’t really know that much about you, whether you’re gay or straight, but if you’re straight, you know the PARTICULAR pain of standing in front of a woman who is laughing at you.
By the time we made it to school, I was a popsicle. She knows this now. At the time, she thought I ordered them all the time…… because that is what I told her.