Thursday, June 18, 2009

Daily Letter To The People Reading My Email, June 18th, 2009

Another letter to the guy (or girl, or guys or girls or guy/girl combination) who may or may not be reading my emails.

Hey you!

Still here? That's good!

So, as you already know, today wasn't a big day in email for me. Thursdays generally aren't that big for incoming email in general and today was a total call-in-sick day, even for spammers and mailing list people, it seems. But you've clocked in, to read my email. I know, it's days like today that make you ask yourself "Why do I even bother? Why am I reading this guy's email?" It's probably been a couple years since I've last received a jackpot email... one of those Laugh Out Loud, wow this guy is a loser emails. But you've always got your hope (for more emails) and your memories.

Wow, it's raining really hard right now. I wonder if you're close enough to me that it's raining where you are too. Maybe you're right across the street. Maybe you're right across the room... VERA, don't read my emails! Okay, Vera said she's not. Vera's my girlfriend, btw. But again, you know that.

Oh, did you see that email that just came in? That's actually a pretty good deal on men's pants. Or is it man's pants? Man pants? Don't answer that. Like I said, don't respond. Let's respect each other's boundaries.

If we ever run into each other in person and like we have to interact, like if I came into the Red Mango that you work at and order some yogurt, will you drop like subtle hints that you'er the guy reading my emails? Like, "That'll be $5.93. Nice pants, by the way... get a good deal on them?" That'd be cool. I hope that it goes over my head while I'm there and that I somehow don't remember your what you look like and then, like maybe a couple months later, when I'm wearing the same pants to a party at a bar on St. Mark's and someone spills a drink on my pants and I go "and those were nice pants, man! I got a good deal on them..." that I'll suddenly flash back to seeing you at the Red Mango and be like, ah fuck that's the dude reading my email! And I'll be mad I can't remember what you look like, but not really that mad. Because I don't want to know.

It's weird that you and I have this bond. But we do. Not by choice... at least on my part. It's because you're a fucking creep who won't stop reading my emails. Please stop (don't stop)

LoVe LuKaS!
June 18th, 2009

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