I don’t do these things with people who are not my friends

The letter request:

My ex husband just sent me a request to connect on LinkedIn. We divorced nearly two decades ago when he ran off with someone else and we’ve had zero contact since then. He did attempt contact once before but I told him then that I had no interest in being pen-pals of any kind. 

 

The letter:

Dear John

The brain is a precious organ that must be treated with the utmost care. Many things can cause it harm, including car accidents, infections and too much partying.

At one end of the spectrum, this type of damage can lead to death. At the other end, it might cause hallucinations and a belief in different planes of reality. You know, like Xenu or the cabbage soup diet or President Donald Trump.

In my plane of reality, I have friends and colleagues who mean a lot to me. We email, follow each other’s lives and careers on social media and catch up in person for hijinks, hilarity and heart-to-hearts. In my plane of reality, I don’t do these things with people who are not my friends. Which brings me to you.

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The only way is up

The letter request:

Donna, my best friend’s wife, always says something nasty/creepy/passive aggressive to me every time we socialise. Recently, at a friend’s party, she cornered me and started talking about golf – about going on vacation to play golf, about how cute her little girls are when the play golf, about how her little boys fight when they play golf… She has three subjects she talks about: doctor things (she’s a physician), at which time she uses really big terms so if you’re not a doctor you won’t understand what she’s talking about; golf, which bores me to tears; and her kids. So I came up with a plan (big mistake). I purchased a couple of books on cocktail party conversation, and a magazine subscription called Mental Floss, and suggested we meet to devise a plan where we could talk about things worldly and not about golf (did I mention I hate golf?) as a way to connect with each other on a more personal/friendly level. I sent her a text message. No response.

 

The letter:

Dear Donna,

So the other day I was reading an article in the New York Times that made me pause and think. It was about conversation and one particular sentiment leapt out at me: ‘In conversation, we are called upon to see things from another’s point of view.’

If this is indeed true, this is how I see your world after a conversation with you: You’re a committed medical practitioner who enjoys playing golf and adores her children more than life itself. True? Win!

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All salt and no pepper

The letter request:

Late last year my husband and I went on an overseas holiday, we spent all year saving and had a great time. On the way back, however, we were not seated together on the plane. The lady who checked us in at Hamburg mentioned this in passing, but then told us to speak to someone in Dubai about getting our seats changed. In Dubai we spoke to at least five people but… nothing.

 

The letter:

Dear Emirates,

I’m hungry. Hear me out. I’m hungry because today I went to my favourite dumplings restaurant for lunch and they gave me a single chopstick to eat with. What what? Crazy, I know. I couldn’t eat a thing. Everyone knows that chopsticks come in pairs and that a lone chopstick is as useless as an umbrella in a hurricane.

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Girls far and wide

The letter request:

Can you write a letter to all the girls out there who missed out on meeting my husband before I did and then I’ll give it to him as a love letter?

 

The letter:

Dear Girls Far and Wide,

This letter is one of commiseration and is in no way intended to be a declaration of triumph. I write because I genuinely feel for you. Sometimes I can’t sleep at night because my heart aches for the girls of Australia. The girls of Canada. The girls of France. Indonesia. All of South East Asia. The girls of every single country that has at some point hosted Jonathan. Girls who could have sat next to him on a bus, got chatting, exchanged numbers, one thing leading to another… Girls who could have been his best mate’s pretty cousin for whom he had the hots. Girls who could have worked in the same office as him and pashed him in the photocopy room at the Christmas party.

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A glimmering white bum

The letter request:

Could you write a Valentines letter to my husband’s car. He seriously loves it more than he loves me.

 

The letter:

Dear Aaron’s Audi,

Will you be our Valentine?

Last year on St Valentine’s Day you were quite new on the scene and I think we forgot to celebrate. We were in that heady stage of lust, I believe they call it the ‘honeymoon’ phase.
If I’m honest, it wasn’t all roses and violins for me. While Aaron was in love with you immediately I myself was a little wary. I’ve shared him with other loves before. I’ve shared him with houses, jet skis and television programs about Kombi restoration. Hell, I’ve even shared him with the ironing. But somehow this is different. When Aaron fell for you he fell hard.

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