(picks up a corner)
Ahhh. There we are!
(grabs the key and rubs it between her fingers)
My precious. My preeeeshhhousssss!
What? What's this? (notices a second smaller key)
Hmmmmm. Ahhhh! Mailbox key. She must want me to check her mailbox while she's out. Smart girl, that Red Lotus Mama. Wouldn't want to miss that Eden Fantasys shipment. I hear they REALLY hooked the girl up. Yeah, she's promised a review, but, if I know her, she won't kiss and tell!
Hey wait! That gives me an idea!
I've got these letters I've been meaning to send, but I don't necessarily want MY postmark on them. They're not anonymous, really, but they may be fun to confuse a recipient or two with a different return address. Let's see...
Dear creepy co-worker:
Please cease and desist your visits to my office threshold wherein you find it necessary to inquire as to my whereabouts. If I am not here. I am busy doing something and it's usually something that contributes to the betterment of society, like making a bank run so my checks don't bounce or getting the haz-mat disaster (from my last road trip) removed at the car wash. While I appreciate compliments from almost anyone, your remarks about my appearance and the tone in which they are delivered are about to warrant a discussion in the back alley where my stilettos meet your crotch.
The smart and pretty newly divorced chick who's not interested in 60+-year-old-creepy-married-men.
Dear Expedia and Hotels.com:
You both suck. In this era of tough competition for precious travel dollars, I would have thought you two could have stepped up, admitted you screwed up and given a girl some decent compenstation for the hell you put her through. Making me pay for a kid's pass to Legoland that should have been free because your own customer service people at Expedia HQ (in God knows where) cannot figure out your bass-ackwards website better than I could was really lame, especially since my whole trip was built around the fact that the kid could get in for free. The $100 credit you gave me would have been great IF you would have let me use it to buy the kids' pass that you hosed me on. Instead, I get to spin the wheel and hope my reservation doesn't go FUBAR next time.
Accepting and confirming my prepaid reservation and forgetting to send it from Hotels.com HQ to the hotel was one thing. After all, you did offer to book me into a neighboring establishment. Wanting to charge me for the price difference because you f'd up? I don't think so. Then, showing up at Hotel #2 and, despite having made arrangements for a late (post-midnight) check-in, to discover that the office is shuttered for the night? Yep, total suckage. At least you found us a room next door. Too bad I had to pay out of pocket for hotel #3 and had to change rooms because of the haunted toilet above us. Thanks for the three hours of sleep I got before paddling out into shark-infested waters (and my shark, I mean the creepy 50+ muffin-topped white men on their boats in Dana Point harbor). The fact that I then had to call and demand a refund for Hotel #2 was ridiculous. The $40 coupon I got for my next stay? That's gonna get used when Bernie Madoff comes to town. Because he deserves the brand of quality customer service you provide, just this side of hell.
All my love,
The gnome lover
Dear Kindergarten Teacher:
I turned my little 5-YO wunderkindt over to your care last week. Putting her in the back row between two of the most notorious Pre-K troublemakers shows me that you obviously didn't talk to the lovely old woman in the class next door who's now wearing a wig after tearing out her hair over these two. I hope you learn names fast, because you're gonna be making some seat assignment changes pronto.
A mom who know's her kid can be a total pain in the ass
P.S. Speaking of ass, I know they're supposed to be self sufficient and all by this age and we have been working with her on it all freaking summer, but if you catch a whiff of something foul and Boo's in a 6-foot vicinity, send the girl to the bathroom and tell her she can't come back until the toilet paper gets rubbed on her backside and it comes back clean.
Dear Car Wash people:
Thank you for cleaning my car last week. I felt really bad only tipping you a buck, but I really did think I had more cash on me when I paid the ticket with credit instead of debit. I nearly came back this weekend to tip you, but then I saw that you totally missed the two-square feet of leather upholstry upon which my children decided to coat with layers of juice on our last roadtrip. Sticky mess people. You also lost points for missed cheerios and crushed chips. Given what I paid for said car wash, I'm now thinking you should be lucky I gave you that dollar. I may actually come over there and ask for it back. My kids would split a Taco Bell taco with that. Well, if they ate tacos, that is.
See you next time...maybe.
The crazy redhead who's license plate is "BLOGGER" not "BOOGER"
You've taken your life and done a complete 180. You've moved here to follow your dreams and are allowing me some space on the wagon of your journey. I admire your bravery and persistence. Any guy who's willing to spend a Saturday night hanging out on my couch watching episodes Entourage (that he's already seen) while I plough through three months of ironing is pretty damn awesome. Getting more hangers for me from upstairs? Yeah, that totally rocked my world.
The chick who thinks Bounce is the best men's fragrance ever
Hmmm. That about does it.
(licks envelopes, places stamps)
(Rubs hands together)
Now I hear they've got a mouse around here somewhere. Miiiiick-eeeey! Heerre Mickey! Nancy's got some nice cheese for you!
Nancy writes at Fear and Parenting in Las Vegas, The Imperfect Parent and GoodBadUgly Reviews. Follow her on Twitter.