Dear Guy Not at Starbucks (approximately 8:00 Tuesday morning),
I wonder what your reaction would be if you knew that you're a small Internet sensation. You seem like an unobtrusive fellow and I think you'd be shocked if you knew how many people were asking for more information about you. You're not here this morning, leaving me to drink my chai tea among a Bible-study group and retired men beginning their day of too much free time. I see you most mornings so I can only hope you're still snuggled in bed next to someone who loves that head tattoo and you.
Dear Solicitor Who Calls the Library,
I may have no desire for your products. In fact, I'm not even certain what you're selling. But your English accent is dreamy.
Dear Bible Study Group at Starbucks (every morning at 8:15 it seems),
I am not a very religious person and left Bible study back in the sixth grade. Because yes, even though I went to Catholic Grade school, we stopped studying the Bible once I hit Miss Z's class. In the 7th grade we made cards for the local nursing home and did religious word searches every day. In 8th grade we just wrote essays on saints and studied hard to be confirmed, as if we had a choice. So even though I can't relate to your early-morning dedication, I admire your discussion.
I love your clothes and love your shoes. I don't wish to be a walking advertisement for your wares, but could you please increase the amount of items you have for curvy girls? I can promise you that it would be well-received.
Dear New Gentleman,
You may be a nice kisser. But I like that you are capable of politely calling out my bullsh*t ways of putting up walls just a bit more. That is all.
Dear Bobbi Brown Crimson 16,
When I bought you, on a windy February at Sacks 5th Avenue, in New York City I was browsing for something new. I thought you might be a little fling, a wild night, until I settled easily back into my berry-stained lip gloss. How happily you have proved me wrong. Thank goodness for taking risks and red lipstick.
Shannon, aka BrassyLibrarian