Woman On The Subway This Morning

Dear Woman On The Subway This Morning,

I’d like to apologize for my blatant lie to you this morning. You may recall that before you sat next to me you picked up a sheet of paper from the seat and asked, “Is This Yours?” I answered that it was not. This was a lie. The sheet of paper in question was a promotional wrap around cover for the Toronto Star, that announced in bold letters that the paper was complimentary as a gift from some company or other that was advertising their wares on the wrap around cover. I of course was reading the very paper this sheet was wrapped around when you asked me this question.

Firstly, I should state that it was not a complete lie. I did not purchase nor did I pick up that paper from a stand, it was on the seat before I got on the subway. Technically it is not my newspaper, however as I understand it possession is nine-tenths of the law. Which I suppose would mean it was my sheet of paper.

So now that I have apologized, and I do hope you forgive me for my grave indiscretion, I do have some explanations as to why I lied, which I have listed here:

a) The way you threateningly waved the sheet of paper around when you asked if it was mine took me off guard. I felt a little bit as though I was back in grade school and the schoolmarm had confiscated my button of with the picture of pop star tiffany with no top on. Perhaps the flashback to this time triggered something deep within and I was afraid you would call my parents.

b) I was ashamed that I had to take a “complimentary paper” rather than shelling out the $1.25 for the regular paper. What would you think of me if you knew I was too cheap to purchase the newspaper?

c) I was already embarrassed I had laughed so hard at the Marmaduke comic. I mean really, when will that dog learn he’s not supposed to be on the couch?

As you can see all are very valid reasons for my covering up of the truth. I hope you find it on your heart to forgive me for the lying and for snatching your purse when I got off at my stop.

Santa, Why Do You Hate Me?

Yum! Look what I got in my stocking! Gourmet Jelly Beans. Delicious. Need sugar fix. Must eat them all! Munch, munch, gulp, gulp.

Oh, they are sugar free! I have put on a couple of pounds since the holidays started. I guess Santa noticed, though he's one to talk... that fatty! Oh well, gorging on sweets guilt free is always good. Wait, what's that writing in the corner of the box?

Stomach discomfort? I suppose that's fair if I ate the whole box in one sitting. Laxative Effect? Ah, that's just a precaution. I wonder what it says on the back of the box?

Oh no. A recommended dosage of jelly beans? This is not good. Stomach rumbling... things brewing inside. An evil brew. Not a good Christmas. Must go to little boy's room. Damn you Santa, Damn you!

Thanks For The Sweater

Dear Grandma,

Ever since I was a little boy you always told me that I should write thank you notes for any gifts I receive. And I have always heeded this advice because you have always been an inspiration to me. Which brings me to the reason for this letter. I would like to thank you for the lovely sweater you gave me this year.

I realize it is not easy for you to go out and shop for Christmas due to your arthritic knees. I’m sure that while in the store there were many different sweaters for you to pick from. It must have been quite the inward battle between a plain colored sweater and the one with flying reindeer over a city. The sweater you ultimately chose.

It’s perfect by all means. The blue background matches my eyes, the red building matches my hair and the buildings will always remind me that I live in a building much like the ones depicted on this whimsical sweater. The purple one most closely resembles my own detached two-bedroom townhouse, except of course my house had white siding and is not made of scratchy acrylic yarn by small children in China.

Although I have never seen a real deer, nor ever mentioned one before to you, you somehow have detected this would be my favorite animal worthy of displaying across my chest. Perhaps you feel this is my spirit animal. I will consult my local shaman to confirm this fact. And they fly, how magical.

Normally when one sees a number of flying deer chained to one another it is followed by a sleigh with that Jolly Old Man. No, not Grandpa… ha, ha. We both know he’s dead. Of course I mean Santa. I can only conclude that his absence is a comment on how consumerism has hijacked the Christmas season. The reindeer have cast off their bonds of servitude to the great God, Wal-Mart. And you know how much I hate big conglomerates and their shoddy merchandise. The fact you bought this sweater for me is just the sort of ironic twist mixed with a political message I would expect from you Grandma.

I’m not sure when I will have the opportunity to wear this sweater. Perhaps during hunting season I will wear it for a week. Trudging out into the forest gun in hand, I’ll wear the sweater. The other deer will see it and think, “What fun, deer who can fly! Maybe I’ll try and make friends and learn to fly myself.” Then when they draw near I can blast the life out of them. That’s a whole two weeks a year I’ll be able to enjoy this piece of clothing you have thoughtfully given me. Now I just need to buy a gun and develop a taste for deer meat. I hope that it is machine washable so I can get all the blood off of it.

Anyway Grandma, thank you for the thoughtful gift. It is only rivaled by your birthday gift to me of the cat sweater, which of course I wear during cat hunting season.

Best wishes and Happy New Year.

Love,

Sammy