Open Notes To Folks That Will Most Likely Never Read This Blog

To One Of My Childhood Best Friends Sisters,

Please stop talking so fast and so loud on the train to me at 745am, and then proceed the entire ride into work. Thankfully the V train arrived at Broadway/Lafayette, and I was able to make an early escape your speedy loud talk. In the future I would like to chat it up with the small talk with you, at a lesser decibel level, and this said small talk should not involve hearing about this past weekend yet again in which you purchased a coffee table for half price near the Bowery, which just so happened to be the same table that you had wanted to buy last November but didn’t want to pay full price, and how you and your mother walked the wrong direction and decided to enter the coffee table store on the whim, which you think “God” had a plan in leading you the two of you in the “wrong” direction. Once was more than enough.

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To The General Counsel Of The Broker Dealer That I Work At,

Don’t you for a second think that I am not onto you and your 845am morning routine of making a run to the restroom and then let out loud gassy farts from your behind. I realize that you are nervous on days like today when you have a big meeting to talk in. I just want to let you know that I find it amusing, and that as long as you keep it to the non stinky capacity to which you have done so far, I will continue to be entertained by it.

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To The George Papadopoulous (Webster’s Dad) Look Alike Who Rides The Morning D Train,

You are a dead ringer. Please continue to ride the train, and I hope that we (Jimmy and I) are able to get a photo of you and the Kim Jong-il look alike together one day.

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To The Few Folks Who Work On My Floor And Call Me The Wrong Name,

My name is not Justin or Josh. Nor am I a Kevin. I realize that both Justin, Josh, and I all worked on the floor together at one point, and please realize that not all young white males look the same. Yes, we might all have been white, around 5’10/11” and have similar shades of hair, but look again, look deeper, and you shall see that we are not all alike. Even the Chinese guy on my floor is able to tell the difference correctly.

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To Risa Who Works On My Floor,

Thank you for having that loud argument on the phone yesterday with your manfriend who wanted to take you out to dinner, while you did not want to go out to dinner. I thoroughly enjoyed your loud yelling at him that you wanted to go home, stay home, and eat at home. Then how you hung up on him while he was talking to you, and then when he called back twice you picked up the phone and slammed it down on the receiver without hearing what he had to say. This made the 4 O’clock hour go by very quickly for me yesterday. I only wish that you had continued yelling at him long enough after I called KG to come by and listen with me. She would have enjoyed your yelling too, I’m sure.

Regards,
Beehive