Ms. Amanda

Amanda, I hope this letter finds you well. When I came across your profile, so moved was I that I decided to forego my usual email that simply says, “Sup, girl?” In fact, I might even throw in some fancy-pants vocabulary words to impress you.

You ever been hit on by a guy who uses the word “indubitably”? Well, stick around, Amanda; today may be your lucky day!

Your photos show a lot of personality. I would have to say on my part, the last festival food I had was in the month of June when I had my first fried Oreo. You ever have a fried Oreo, Amanda? It’s a flavor I never experienced before, and as I felt a sharp, unforgiving pain radiate down my left arm as I took my last bite, I wondered, “Who is the culinary genius who came up with this?”

I also like the photos of you holding random children that aren’t yours. Don’t get me wrong, Amanda, I can and have lifted any number of my friends’ small children (I do pushups!), but there is a severe lack of photographic evidence in my circle of friends to corroborate my claim. And to be honest, I don’t hold them for too long, as I have a slight aversion to tears and urine.

I do apologize for a lack of questions to you on my part, but I wanted to show that this isn’t some form letter. I figured this format would be better than a bullet list of typical date questions like, “What do you do for a living,” or “How come you never see a homeless person drinking Gatorade?”

Oh, I do have a leading question for you though: which comedians are your favorites? I too enjoy stand-up comedy, although I don’t think I could ever stomach a cruise ship comedian who is always so close to bombing epically.

Thanks for reading, Amanda, and take care. Would I like to hear back from you? Indubitably!

Cordially,

Mike

Ms. Rockout13

Hello, Ms. Rockout13, I’m Mike2614231. I live in Glenside now, but I used to live in Green Lane. It’s true! I lived there for about 5 years, in a tiny apartment on the corner of 63 and route 29, by the Sunoco gas station. Have you ever been? It’s a nice gas station; they sell ice cream for kids as well as minnows for fishermen. And they also sell pornographic magazines sealed in plastic bags, which… well, look, I just know that they SELL them. That’s all I know about it, honest.

Honest.

At any rate, the apartment I lived in was an old house from the early 1900’s that was converted into 5 small apartments. Everything was slanted: the floor, the windows, the door frame… Hey, you remember in the movie Beetlejuice when Beetlejuice was going to marry Lydia and he created that crooked door in the wall for that old priest to come out and wed them in marital bliss? My door frame looked like that. When people came over I told them to enter on the right side of the door frame, lest they hit their heads on the short side.

Are the door frames where you dwell crooked as well? I didn’t know if I was living in some kind of architectural oddity or if that’s just the way things are up there. I am sorry to say that I don’t have a single piece of plaid in my whole wardrobe; not a stitch. You probably read that sentence and wondered how I get by, but somehow I do. Somehow.

I am envious of your wide array of photos. I especially like the professional photographer’s shots of you in the felled cornfield. I guess you could say the photographer was…”stalk”ing you? Ha, you’re welcome; feel free to use that and take it as your own, I won’t mind.

Have yourself a wonderful day!

Signed,

Mike (The guy with the Beetlejuice door frames and puns about corn, which are a-MAIZE-ing!)

Ms. Bird

Dear Ms. Bird,

I enjoyed reading your profile. I too, am a Bill Murray fan. For me, it doesn’t get any better in Scrooged when the props guy asks how to put little antlers on a mouse and Bill goes, “Have you tried staples?”

I admire your decision to work in the medical field. I have a couple of friends who are nurses and they say the work is as rewarding as it is challenging. It’s a lot of grace and stability under pressure and to be honest, when I am faced with such a task, I find that my go-to move is to pull on the fire alarm and run out the door. Sometimes I have to go running out of the building screaming, you know, really sell it, because there’s only so many times you can pull that off and make it believable. Hint: You can do it up to 3 times before people get a touch skeptical when they see you nearing the wall during questioning.

In the early mornings I write humor articles (hence the time stamp of this email) and during the day I work in the Chalfont area where my supervisor is an admitted former crack addict. True story, he smoked crack back in the day and now he falls asleep on the forklift.

Granted, it might be the apnea and not the remnants of inhaled cocaine from 1989 that causes the sleep spells, but whenever he approaches me and says for instance, “Here’s how I would have done this…” And if I don’t agree with him I simply say, “Yeah, but you’ve smoked crack, yes? Sorry, I just wanted to ask that again; I keep forgetting.”

Of course, if I find that I am completely in the wrong and have put my foot in my mouth (which, believe it or not, has happened), most buildings (if they are up to fire code) have what I call a, “Get out of Argument Free” lever on the nearest wall.

I hope you have a wonderful day, Ms. Bird! And I’ll leave you with my favorite poem by one Bob Wiley: “Roses are red, violets are blue, I’m a schizophrenic, and so am I.”

Cordially,

Mike

Ms. Fallon

Dear Ms. Fallon,
Good morning! I hope this letter finds you well. I came across your profile and thought that I would write you a letter. I too am looking to someone to laugh with. I wasn’t too sure about this match.com business, but I was feeling a bit of pressure from a coworker of mine who gave me an insightful observation about myself.

I’ll never forget what he said to me. It was an unseasonably cool Wednesday morning when he said to me, he said, “Mike, your life is terrible.”

And I said, “Matt, you don’t even have a home. How can you be telling me that my life is terrible?”

“You need a girlfriend,” he advised me. “You’re in a rut. And before you ask, yes, I have a girlfriend.”

“Matt, you sleep in the park! How can you possibly have a girlfriend?”

He then went on to describe some vagrant “hot spots”—places for the transients to comingle and get together. Most of these places were tucked below underpasses and were not fancy enough to have a place to set down your stick and bindle. I finally had to cut him off and say, “Match. I’ll join match. Please just stop talking. Please.”

It was a very eye-opening conversation for me, to say the least, Ms. Fallon. What made you decide to join match? Do you have a homeless friend that coerced you into joining? I have other friends who live in solid housing structures and they said match was the best bet; it cuts out a lot of the riff-raff, I hear.

Ms. Fallon, have yourself a wonderful day! I hope to hear back from you, unless of course, your name is Ms. Taken…

Signed,

Mr. Mike