When Writers Have Too Much Time On Their Hands
Writers often are smart asses. Case in point the email I wrote my friend this week. We knew we were going to hang out towards the end of the week, but hadn’t yet set up a date/time. Instead of a simple: “hey what time are we getting together?” I sent the following:
Good morning Ms. H,
I am writing to inquire if you are still interested in meeting with with a Ms. A. C. on Friday night to discuss important matters such as clothing, boys and possibly puppies.
Sincerely,
A. C.
Now Many people would respond with a, “uhhh…sure we can get together. What’s with the formal email?” Not my friend T. She jumped right on board with this response:
Dear Ms.C,
Your invitation to discuss puppies, clothing and boys has come at the most opportune time, as I currently adore all of these things. I have cleared my calendar for Friday evening and eagerly await our conversation. Would it be too forward of me to suggest that we consume alcohol?
Cordially,
T. H.
Right? So most people would be leave it at that, have a good chuckle, and be done with it. Nope.
T.H,
It would be very forward to suggest such a thing as alcohol. However, consumption of such beverages is said to aid meetings of this type, and so at our discretion I believe that consumption of such a beverage would actually be most beneficial and appreciated by all present parties.
Where shall this meeting of the minds take place?
Sincerely and forever yours,
Ms. A. of the Lake C.
Yeah that’s right, I threw a little “Anne of Green Gables” reference in. Now we’ve clearly changed from a mere formal email to an historical piece. Luckily T. is well versed in Canadian literature from the late 1800s.
A. of the Lake,
I feared that I may have been forward in that suggestion, but I'm tickled to hear that you are willing to look past my discourteous and boorish behaviour. I look forward to our beverage consumption and ongoing dialogue throughout the evening.
Perhaps we could go to the Mexican Barrio downtown? I hear great things about this cultural cuisine.
Ms. T. of the Wheat Fields H.
And instead of sticking with this motif, I continued to move us back in time.
Ms. H. of the Wheat Fields,
I was not aware you were of the Wheat Field family, I once knew a man from this region and family but it turned out he was actually of the Oil Field family and was a scoundrel who had lied.
Your communication with me was rather witty and so I indulged in a brief laugh. The giggle burst forth as I read my letter, and of course, being a school teacher, I was embarrassed to have indulged in such crass emotions in front of my eager pupils.
I look forward to the culture of Mexico. Shall we journey together? Or shall we meet together.
Yours
Clearly from here we must move into a feminist dialogue.
Ms. A.,
I am indeed of the Wheat Field family. Don't be fooled though, there are a few scoundrels in my family tree as well. Although not nearly as many as the Oil Fields - what a (excuse my language) rambunctious bunch.
I have also indulged in a brief twitter of laughter. Fortunately, I am surrounded by typists and business men who don't think it strange when a single woman erupts in this manner. They already assume me mad since I am single and well beyond my 16th birthday, which, as we all know, is the proper time to settle down.
Do not be embarrassed. Our wit is too strong to deny. Let the laughter flow. Your pupils will be better for it.
I too look forward to the Mexican journey. Perhaps we could meet there? Is there a time that works best for you?
T.
The feminist discourse continues…
Oh dear companion,
You must know that I too am assumed to be mad. This is the shameful secret that I carry with me: I am not a woman of honour. My sordid past has left a stain on my soul: I was once a married woman. You may immediately assume that I am a widow and therefore now an old maid, but you would be incorrect in your assumption. I am a divorced woman.
I shall let the laughter flow, as now that laughter is legal (praise be to our Prime Minister!) I shall take part in the tom foolery.
The small hand on the clock will read 6, and the large hand will read 0. The chimes shall clang, and the bells shall sound not once, not twice but six times. Then I shall be ready to experience Mexico for all of its rich and inhibited glory.
Ever Yours,
A. the 3rd
Ok, now we were just being ridiculous.
My darling friend,
I had heard rumours of your past, but I neither find it sordid or shameful. In fact, I enjoy people who have a more interesting past than the taupe-colored stepford wives that I am forced to drink coffee with in my workplace. I suppose this would be a conducive time to report that I too have a somewhat shady past and have lived with a man to whom I was not wed. I don't often speak of this for fear that I will be fired or run out of town once the judgment starts. I believe we've just solidified our friendship with our colorful pasts.
Praise be to our Prime Minister indeed. I often am thankful that we are able to speak in public now. I don't know that I'll ever have the audacity to speak my opinions openly, especially in the company of males, but it is comforting to know that I won't be thrown to the galleys for it.
I eagerly await the chiming of the 6 o'clock bells.
T. the Near-sighted
Clearly my friends and I have too much time on our hands.
Good morning Ms. H,
I am writing to inquire if you are still interested in meeting with with a Ms. A. C. on Friday night to discuss important matters such as clothing, boys and possibly puppies.
Sincerely,
A. C.
Now Many people would respond with a, “uhhh…sure we can get together. What’s with the formal email?” Not my friend T. She jumped right on board with this response:
Dear Ms.C,
Your invitation to discuss puppies, clothing and boys has come at the most opportune time, as I currently adore all of these things. I have cleared my calendar for Friday evening and eagerly await our conversation. Would it be too forward of me to suggest that we consume alcohol?
Cordially,
T. H.
Right? So most people would be leave it at that, have a good chuckle, and be done with it. Nope.
T.H,
It would be very forward to suggest such a thing as alcohol. However, consumption of such beverages is said to aid meetings of this type, and so at our discretion I believe that consumption of such a beverage would actually be most beneficial and appreciated by all present parties.
Where shall this meeting of the minds take place?
Sincerely and forever yours,
Ms. A. of the Lake C.
Yeah that’s right, I threw a little “Anne of Green Gables” reference in. Now we’ve clearly changed from a mere formal email to an historical piece. Luckily T. is well versed in Canadian literature from the late 1800s.
A. of the Lake,
I feared that I may have been forward in that suggestion, but I'm tickled to hear that you are willing to look past my discourteous and boorish behaviour. I look forward to our beverage consumption and ongoing dialogue throughout the evening.
Perhaps we could go to the Mexican Barrio downtown? I hear great things about this cultural cuisine.
Ms. T. of the Wheat Fields H.
And instead of sticking with this motif, I continued to move us back in time.
Ms. H. of the Wheat Fields,
I was not aware you were of the Wheat Field family, I once knew a man from this region and family but it turned out he was actually of the Oil Field family and was a scoundrel who had lied.
Your communication with me was rather witty and so I indulged in a brief laugh. The giggle burst forth as I read my letter, and of course, being a school teacher, I was embarrassed to have indulged in such crass emotions in front of my eager pupils.
I look forward to the culture of Mexico. Shall we journey together? Or shall we meet together.
Yours
Clearly from here we must move into a feminist dialogue.
Ms. A.,
I am indeed of the Wheat Field family. Don't be fooled though, there are a few scoundrels in my family tree as well. Although not nearly as many as the Oil Fields - what a (excuse my language) rambunctious bunch.
I have also indulged in a brief twitter of laughter. Fortunately, I am surrounded by typists and business men who don't think it strange when a single woman erupts in this manner. They already assume me mad since I am single and well beyond my 16th birthday, which, as we all know, is the proper time to settle down.
Do not be embarrassed. Our wit is too strong to deny. Let the laughter flow. Your pupils will be better for it.
I too look forward to the Mexican journey. Perhaps we could meet there? Is there a time that works best for you?
T.
The feminist discourse continues…
Oh dear companion,
You must know that I too am assumed to be mad. This is the shameful secret that I carry with me: I am not a woman of honour. My sordid past has left a stain on my soul: I was once a married woman. You may immediately assume that I am a widow and therefore now an old maid, but you would be incorrect in your assumption. I am a divorced woman.
I shall let the laughter flow, as now that laughter is legal (praise be to our Prime Minister!) I shall take part in the tom foolery.
The small hand on the clock will read 6, and the large hand will read 0. The chimes shall clang, and the bells shall sound not once, not twice but six times. Then I shall be ready to experience Mexico for all of its rich and inhibited glory.
Ever Yours,
A. the 3rd
Ok, now we were just being ridiculous.
My darling friend,
I had heard rumours of your past, but I neither find it sordid or shameful. In fact, I enjoy people who have a more interesting past than the taupe-colored stepford wives that I am forced to drink coffee with in my workplace. I suppose this would be a conducive time to report that I too have a somewhat shady past and have lived with a man to whom I was not wed. I don't often speak of this for fear that I will be fired or run out of town once the judgment starts. I believe we've just solidified our friendship with our colorful pasts.
Praise be to our Prime Minister indeed. I often am thankful that we are able to speak in public now. I don't know that I'll ever have the audacity to speak my opinions openly, especially in the company of males, but it is comforting to know that I won't be thrown to the galleys for it.
I eagerly await the chiming of the 6 o'clock bells.
T. the Near-sighted
Clearly my friends and I have too much time on our hands.