“Yes.”
Author: sherlonya
In an open letter to the high school teacher who once said to/asked of me, “You don’t do that Lil’ Kim stuff, do you?”
“Gross. I think that you were making an allusion to the rumor circulating during that time that Lil’ Kim had her stomach pumped for, uh, let’s just say, big girl reasons. But, I could be wrong; I’ve never been great at putting together these sorts of things. What I do know is that your question […]
In an open letter to the man who sat beside me/almost atop me on the plane,
“I have to tell you, I didn’t see it coming. You looked so neutrally friendly as you approached our row. Then you proceeded to take up about one quarter of my seat, not because your size required it, but because… Well, only you can answer that one. I should have just said something. But the […]
In an open letter to the airport personnel manning the body scanner,
“You looked surprised when I didn’t keep walking, encouraging me with a bewildered, ‘Come on, baby.’ But, since you were touching me, I thought you were telling me I needed to stop….”
In an open letter to the man on the plane who, without invitation, started to help me remove my jacket,
“Thank you? I guess I looked like I was having a hard time?”
In an open letter to the feelings unleashed by prematurely listening to Harry Connick Jr. doing Christmas songs,
“Even I am at a loss for words right now, but I have to tell you that wondering whether this music is regularly used to seduce during the holiday season is, well, a little different. As for the thought, ‘this is the kind of music that makes you feel up for anything if it comes […]
In an open letter to the woman whom I didn’t tell that her maxi pad was hanging out of her pocket by a good two inches,
“I found myself thinking about you the other day and I was surprised to find that I still found it funny. You were there giving a presentation to the class with that telltale pink plastic betraying you against those navy blue corduroys. Had you been nicer, I probably would have told you. Had you been […]
In an open letter to the two motorists I watch blatantly run red lights,
“You all are the reason that I always indulge in an extra pause when my light turns green. You’re dangerous.”
In an open letter to the woman she watched pick her nose for an extended period of time,
“I have never seen someone commit to picking her nose the way that you did. As I openly stared at you not bothering to disguise my gaze, you didn’t even acknowledge my presence. I am perplexed by the science behind your nose picking. I couldn’t see any of your pinky finger and you rooted around […]
In an open letter to her crankiest self,
“Listen, you have got to lay off on the taking things personally. You are in control of your reactions and you need to start acting like it. I think you need to get back into running, you Clydesdale. You could use some endorphins….”