My life as an epistelary novel
Dear Bus,
How are you? I'm fine, but only in a man, I've stayed at work for far too long sort of way. Which is to say not fine at all. Which brings us to the point of this letter. I would like to go home now. While I understand that it is not your job to take me all the way home, any help in narrowing the distance would be greatly appreciated. I don't have much to offer you in return, the tap of my Charlie card, and a promise to not spit on the floor or leave a newspaper on the seat. But I would really, really like it if I didn't have to walk. Really. Thank you for taking the time to read this.
Dictated but not signed,
The Person Who Had to Walk 35 minutes to get from work to the T stop.
Dear People at 87 Floral,
I am writing at the behest of Sam. He cannot write this himself as he has no thumbs. Sam is very bored of being outside all day. You'd think it would be lots of fun hanging out in the hot sun and humid weather, chasing squirrels, and waiting until he will be let back in, but you are wrong. Very, very wrong. Sam would rather be lounging on the couch, preferably with air conditioning. Also, pate on crackers. Also, pettings. Sam is a big fan of being pet. Currently, he hopes that strangers will stop and pet him because you being inside and him being outside, you are not petting him. He also asks the strangers to write letters for him. This will sooner or later get him in trouble. Please let him stay indoors before it does. Thank you.
Signed,
Sam's Friend With Thumbs
Dear Red Sox Fans,
First of all, let me thank you for being so readily distinguishable. Nobody likes surprises, and I like them even less. So happily, I can enter a subway car and simply aim myself towards the location, however unlikely, with the smallest density of dark blue shirts. That said, please understand that you all can't be Ortiz. If everybody has the same name on their jersey, then the reason for having names on jerseys is entirely mooted. There are lots of names out there to choose from. It's like those gift shops at Disney World where you can choose to be anybody, just pick a mug. Want to be Doug? Vallejo? Clementine? Go for it. I'll take a jersey with the name of Sabrina, or if women are still not allowed then Klatu.
Also, thank you for being predictable. I am sure that when I see you getting off at my subway stop, you will crowd onto the escalator ahead of me, leaving no path for me to get past. Normally this is annoying as I am in a hurry to get away from you, but what can I say, seeing you do it, I just whisper to myself, "Here comes the awesome." and when you get to the top, of the escalator, you all stop, and scratch your heads like confused apes because this is not where you parked your car. Had I been able to pass, I would not have gotten to see this moment of awesome. So thank you for putting on the show and making sure I get to see it.
Signed, and sealed with a kiss,
A Sports Fan
Dear MBTA (Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority),
It's hard being the MBTA. Everybody has ideas for how you could be run better. Usually these ideas involve hiring based on ability instead of lottery, or expecting some level of accountability. These ideas are decidedly boring, and lack that Vegas style panache that you bring to public works. But personally, I think it's time we upped the games of chance factor. It's time to fire everybody currently working for the MBTA and replace them with monkeys. Specifically drunk monkeys. Will this raise the safety rating? Undeniably not, but who are you going to blame? A drunk monkey? Drunk monkeys are hardly responsible for their actions. In fact, even sober monkeys cannot be judged by regular standards as it is. This might seem like a willful disregard for public safety, but there is more to it than that. Really, I'm just sick of the random stopping in the tunnels. Schedule adjustment? Traffic? Except for a few merges, these are one track systems. Stop at the station, people go out, others come in, close the doors, and on to the next stop. If the other train is doing the same, there is no traffic ahead. Monkeys would understand this. Also, just say Drunken Monkey. Can you keep yourself from smiling? I didn't think so.
A Concerned Citizen
How are you? I'm fine, but only in a man, I've stayed at work for far too long sort of way. Which is to say not fine at all. Which brings us to the point of this letter. I would like to go home now. While I understand that it is not your job to take me all the way home, any help in narrowing the distance would be greatly appreciated. I don't have much to offer you in return, the tap of my Charlie card, and a promise to not spit on the floor or leave a newspaper on the seat. But I would really, really like it if I didn't have to walk. Really. Thank you for taking the time to read this.
Dictated but not signed,
The Person Who Had to Walk 35 minutes to get from work to the T stop.
Dear People at 87 Floral,
I am writing at the behest of Sam. He cannot write this himself as he has no thumbs. Sam is very bored of being outside all day. You'd think it would be lots of fun hanging out in the hot sun and humid weather, chasing squirrels, and waiting until he will be let back in, but you are wrong. Very, very wrong. Sam would rather be lounging on the couch, preferably with air conditioning. Also, pate on crackers. Also, pettings. Sam is a big fan of being pet. Currently, he hopes that strangers will stop and pet him because you being inside and him being outside, you are not petting him. He also asks the strangers to write letters for him. This will sooner or later get him in trouble. Please let him stay indoors before it does. Thank you.
Signed,
Sam's Friend With Thumbs
Dear Red Sox Fans,
First of all, let me thank you for being so readily distinguishable. Nobody likes surprises, and I like them even less. So happily, I can enter a subway car and simply aim myself towards the location, however unlikely, with the smallest density of dark blue shirts. That said, please understand that you all can't be Ortiz. If everybody has the same name on their jersey, then the reason for having names on jerseys is entirely mooted. There are lots of names out there to choose from. It's like those gift shops at Disney World where you can choose to be anybody, just pick a mug. Want to be Doug? Vallejo? Clementine? Go for it. I'll take a jersey with the name of Sabrina, or if women are still not allowed then Klatu.
Also, thank you for being predictable. I am sure that when I see you getting off at my subway stop, you will crowd onto the escalator ahead of me, leaving no path for me to get past. Normally this is annoying as I am in a hurry to get away from you, but what can I say, seeing you do it, I just whisper to myself, "Here comes the awesome." and when you get to the top, of the escalator, you all stop, and scratch your heads like confused apes because this is not where you parked your car. Had I been able to pass, I would not have gotten to see this moment of awesome. So thank you for putting on the show and making sure I get to see it.
Signed, and sealed with a kiss,
A Sports Fan
Dear MBTA (Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority),
It's hard being the MBTA. Everybody has ideas for how you could be run better. Usually these ideas involve hiring based on ability instead of lottery, or expecting some level of accountability. These ideas are decidedly boring, and lack that Vegas style panache that you bring to public works. But personally, I think it's time we upped the games of chance factor. It's time to fire everybody currently working for the MBTA and replace them with monkeys. Specifically drunk monkeys. Will this raise the safety rating? Undeniably not, but who are you going to blame? A drunk monkey? Drunk monkeys are hardly responsible for their actions. In fact, even sober monkeys cannot be judged by regular standards as it is. This might seem like a willful disregard for public safety, but there is more to it than that. Really, I'm just sick of the random stopping in the tunnels. Schedule adjustment? Traffic? Except for a few merges, these are one track systems. Stop at the station, people go out, others come in, close the doors, and on to the next stop. If the other train is doing the same, there is no traffic ahead. Monkeys would understand this. Also, just say Drunken Monkey. Can you keep yourself from smiling? I didn't think so.
A Concerned Citizen