Can I just say that one of the BEST parts about running LTR is that when I have 12 hour work days like I have this week (TWO days in a row) with ZERO time to be online, we have REALLY good options from letters you guys wrote that we can not only share with everyone but also MAKE US LAUGH! Which is really important after the week I’m having:) PS my favorite part about this letter from snowwhitedrifted is that it came with this subject line: “The creepiest part of this letter is that I thought of it while at the gyno.”
While in the waiting room for my, ahem, annual exam (ladies, you know what I mean), I decide to peruse the fabulous selection of magazines: “Parenting” (no), “Better Homes and Gardens” (don’t care anymore), “Forbes” (yeah right), oh, “Entertainment Weekly”. “EW,” that’s my speed, maybe there are some pics of the you that I’ve missed on LTR. Then I started thinking about where I was and thought “what if you, Rob, were an OBGYN????” Um, total ew! Sure, the breast exam would be fun, but the rest? Ugh, no, that is not my best angle, Rob, and you are allergic. So I thought about what would be my fantasy way of our initial meeting (toally normal). It would go something like this:
SETTING: Just before sunset, early fall, Crystal Cove in Laguna Beach, deserted.
YOU: Sitting on the beach with your dog drinking a Heine.
ME: Walking my well behaved Jack Russell Terrier off leash.
SOUNDTRACK: Just you playing acoustic guitar, the waves crashing on the shore, and an occasional seagull.
SCENARIO: Your dog bolts towards us and my dog’s tail wags furiously. Dogs run together and frolic in the water for a while. Dogs run to you and shake off the water. You smile, shake the sea water out of your disheveled hair and giggle at the hilarity and utter cuteness of your dog’s new friend. I saunter up to the pack of you guys, looking flawless and tan in my hot red bikini. You look at me. Your dog looks at me. Your dog begins to hump my leg. You say, as your eyes meet mine with an impish gaze, “My God, who could blame him”. I smile and….
FADE TO BLACK.
SETTING: High noon, hottest day of summer, same cove (which is a long ass walk from the parking lot to the water, including rough terrain, rocks and stairs).
YOU: passed out on the beach, empty bottle of Stoli as a pillow, scruffy, and I think you are a homeless dude and contemplate giving you my sandwich while stealing your dog to give him a better life.
ME: Slathered in sunscreen, sweat (it’s a looooooong walk-see above, and I am carrying beach chairs, a sunbrella, numerous mom totes and a cooler) wearing an ugly sunhat, embarrassing “Jasper Says Relax” wifebeater, and beach jorts.
SOUNDTRACK: Barking dogs and a crying child- all which are mine.
SCENARIO: Both my dogs run up too you and jump on your passed out self. You awake with a “WTF?” as my boy dog humps your head and my girl dog bites your puppy (TWSS). I lumber over to you and screach apologies. You are a nice guy and don’t even consider calling animal control. Then my very young daughter runs up to you and says, “You uncle Rob, you pitures are on mommy’s compuuuuder. You bite peeeple.” Then she bites you, hard, on the shoulder. You run to the ER to get a tetanus shot.
FADE TO SAD.
So I wondered how other people have thought of how they would like to meet you. Do their fantasies involve dogs, beaches and guitars too?
Great discussion snowwhitedrifted! My fantasy has been and always will be meeting Rob at a bar where we’re listening to a great band, we share a smoke (I don’t cough and look stupid), have a laugh, occasionally brush against one another innocently until, in a drunken stupor one innocent brush turns into a longer hold and then – ugh- Fade to Black… sorry….. Butttttt in REALITY, I’m in my pajamas, sweating because it’s 90 degrees in April, sitting on my couch, watching CSI while a cat tries to get on my lap to snuggle & make me hotter and I think I just dropped a piece of popcorn in between my boobs. With No Rob!