Dear County Constable Officer:
I owe you a sincere thanks for not ticketing my dumb ass as it sped merrily through a 45 mph work zone at 60 miles an hour. While, um, talking on my cell phone. I deserved that ticket and we both knew it. Although to be honest, I’m just glad you didn’t clock me five minutes before, when I was flying low at nearly 90.
However, you were kind enough to make me a deal: if I listened to your brief lecture on the dangers of speeding – especially through construction areas – you’d let me off with a written warning. This time.
And that, my good sir, is the best deal I’ve been offered in quite a while.
Thanks again, A grateful new law-abiding citizen
*****
Dear Professor Old:
I’m trying to help you. Really I am. However, I have to admit that I’m getting a little frustrated. We’re talking in circles here.
I told you that I’ll take care of getting the letter that you need. I promise, I will. That’s part of my job. And I guarantee that I will get it signed by our authorized organization representative, a person who is also known as an AOR.
But here’s the thing. You keep tossing around “AOR”, constantly, in every single e-mail that you send, and to quote Inigo Montoya: You keep using that word, and I do not think it means what you think it means. Yet you continue to emphasize the necessity. It’s really the priority at this point, you e-mailed me, to get the AOR.
And while I’d love to oblige, something tells me that my boss may object to being gotten. As I’ve tried to explain, the AOR is a person. You can get the AOR’s signature. You can get the AOR a cup of coffee. However, you cannot get the AOR.
We won’t even discuss the convoluted manner in which you’re approaching your budget preparation, or the fact that I don’t have a clue how to submit your proposal in the first place. But none of that matters anyway, because as you’ve pointed out repeatedly – the main thing is just to get the AOR.
Best of luck, NonSoccerMom
*****
Dear Cat:
If you don’t shut your face, I’ll be forced to shut it for you. Just a gentle word of warning. FTLOG.
Thanks much, Your incredibly disgruntled owner
*****
Dear Miss T:
I love you dearly, you know that, so I just need to throw this out there:
It is really, really embarrassing when I’m carrying you into a public place for you to have your arms wrapped around my neck while loudly yelling, “I want my Mommy! I want my Mommy!”
Love, YOUR MOTHER
