Epistolary Memoir
Dear Woman at the Bank,
As I pulled open the glass door entrance to the bank, I saw you walking towards me, on your way out, and I held the door for you. You thanked me and then commented, “...I was just thinking how lovely you looked in your beautiful coat.”
What could you know of the impact of your comment? I loved that coat - and coats in general. My dad once told my mother and me, “...you two have coats for seasons that haven’t even been declared yet!” This wasn’t the exquisite floral raincoat that looked so good another gentleman in the store nodded his head and commented his approval. My dad, who liked to shop with us, looked at him sardonically and suggested, with a sweeping gesture of his hand, “...you buy it for her then.” Anyway, that’s me and coats. I presume you were pleasantly surprised that a young person would have had enough wherewithal to hold a door open as a courtesy and gesture of respect.
You made me feel so good about myself at that moment. And the feeling continues some thirty years later. Thank you.
Kind regards,
Elissa
***
Dear Guy Yelling,
I understand it’s really important to make sure racers were cautious while moving from the bike staging area to the road for the second stage of the triathlon. The exit area had a corner and a slight hill upwards and not ideal for speed. Cyclists heading out to the road could safely pick up their speed once out of this area.
I was going slowly and close to the curb where you were stepping off the curb into the road and then back up on the curb waving your hands, blowing your whistle, and yelling at people to slow down. What a distraction you were. I was going slowly - really slowly. You do realize that bikes need to be moving so the rider doesn’t fall off, no? When you stepped off the curb in front of me and yelled, “SLOW DOWN,” almost in my face, I got distracted, slowed so much I started to tip over, my hands slipped, I gripped my brakes, flipped over the handlebars, and hit the pavement face first - with a nice skid.
My front teeth didn’t break, but they did go right through my lip. I needed stitches, suffered ghastly “road burn” on my face, some other raw scrapes, and a hairline fracture in my jaw. As a result I’ve never participated in a “race” again, which is also a relief. So thanks for that.
Regards,
Ouch
***
Dear Guy Yelling,
The kids in your basketball camp don’t do better with you yelling at them all the time. But the other folks at the sports complex definitely do worse with all the unnecessary noise coming from your mug. How do you have the energy to shout so much? I’m exhausted just hearing you. Please consider others - and coach like a mensch.
Regards,
STFU
***
Dear Publix Cashier,
Thank you for so graciously explaining the Wednesday discount to me. I didn’t know Wednesdays were special for “seniors,” nor did I know that I was so recognizable as such. Kind of a shock really. But I was most appreciative of how you broke it to me gently. “Oh, it’s “women of wisdom Wednesday.” That I could handle.
Kind regards,
Embracing the Grey
***
Dear Spanx,
Eff off. I’m retired.
Kind Regards,
Anonymous