Open Letters:

From Me to Some of Everyone

In an open letter to racial stereotypes,

“So, if you’re going to be a thing, can you work in my favor sometimes? For example, the stereotype of black women are super intimidating/scary should stop people from letting their children virtually crawl on me in public spaces. If I sneeze, this little girl next to me is going to get the full force of my mouth mist.”

In an open letter to the man who took his boots off in order to slip into some sandals,

“Your pacing is freaking me out. Also, why do you pace away from your things and then stand directly in front of me for a pause?”

I an open letter to my neighbors at gate D17,

“No headphones, eh?”

In an open letter to the better angels of my nature,

“Please help me avoid asking that man if he dyes his very thick, very dark mustache.”

In an open letter to the semi well-built, aging man lovingly gripping his lady’s sidemeat,

“My voyeuristic eye zoomed in on this public intimacy. Now, I am fixated on your dirty fingernails.”

In an open letter to the nearby oversharer,

“I’m having a hard time reconciling the tightness of your ponytail with the looseness of your lips.”

In an open letter to the other bicyclist in a denim mini,

“You are cramping my style.”

In an open letter to my son who reminds me that teenagers are savage,

“Did you seriously say that you wouldn’t have carded that woman based on her arms alone?”

In the open letter to the man who rolled up beside me talkin’ ‘bout he’s going to make sure I get to my car safely,

“Um…. That didn’t make me feel safe….”

In an open letter to Lyndon Johnson’s ghost,

“I fear that I’ve neglected you too long and now you don’t come to me easily. I’d love to see you again. Soon.”