Dearest Ken,
I could hardly wait to rip open the envelope. It’s special, it’s an invitation, and I think we’re finally closing in on dinner and a movie.
Ken, I don’t know why you call me Ms Bugge at this late stage in the game. I have been Karin the last four times you wrote. Did you worry I thought you too forward? I’m glad to see you’re still with Fisher Investments; I like a man with a steady job.
But I sense you’re getting shy. Now you tell me you’re not asking me to buy anything, you just want to send me a gift. As if I didn’t already know. Is that a gift in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?
So your book still only covers the Eight Biggest Mistakes Investors Make? I'm glad in these times the number hasn't increased exponentially. But perhaps you're trying to protect my sense from my sensibilities.
In fact, most of your prose is very formal this time, like you’ve been reading too much Jane Austen. Silly boy. Silly, silly Kenny. I thought we had progressed way beyond that point, but perhaps I just haven’t given you enough encouragement.
I know you “really do hope to hear from” me soon. You are using your very best stationery. It has gold ribbon all up and down the sides. You’re “enthusiastic,” we have “possibilities.” And yes, I’m “astute,” but I think that’s a euphemism for cute, no? Ah, I can see your dimple now.
And then you get all sports-writey on me with “All right, I’ll conclude now with what I hope is just the beginning of a relationship with you…” Macho Ken. When we get to know each other better, I’ll let you know the vast reaches of poetry that stretch between Emma and Frank Deford.
And then you get all sports-writey on me with “All right, I’ll conclude now with what I hope is just the beginning of a relationship with you…” Macho Ken. When we get to know each other better, I’ll let you know the vast reaches of poetry that stretch between Emma and Frank Deford.
“Nothing may come of it. Or something may come of it,” you say, beseechingly.
Then you retreat once more into “I’m not about to risk my reputation, not with you and not with anyone else.” That’s because you’re honorable, and what we have is special.
Then you retreat once more into “I’m not about to risk my reputation, not with you and not with anyone else.” That’s because you’re honorable, and what we have is special.
Ken, Kenny, Kenneth. That insert, with the checkboxes , you've gone all James Joyce and Molly Bloom on me. Yes! I say. Yes, Yes! Yes, respond! Yes, send!
I'm excited now. And in the frenzy of my agreement and your generous post-paid envelope, and the gold leaf running down the side of the stationery, here are the details of my net worth. Here you go -- Yes! Yes!
36 comments:
hee-hee, ha-ha! you amaze me by fishing up fodder in the most unusual places. Just wonderful.
Oh Ken!
It's only a rumour but I've heard tittle tattle to the effect that Kenny may be Bernie Madoff's less scrupulous half brother.
Oh my... and all I get is automated phone messages from carpet cleaners. Hardly romantic. I'm jealous.
Well, Ken certainly doesn't wanna send a love letter to his Barbie if he has to address her as a "Mrs".
I think you should actually mail that letter (your post) to ken in his self addressed envelope on perfumed paper and see what kind of response you get.
Ken, you lousy two-timing ...
...triple timing...
ahahahahahahahah GREAT KARIN!!!
PS: go Ken go!
Very creative right braining.
Looks like Ken has some explaining to do.
(MTG, hmmmm, maybe...)
This Ken sounds like a relationship worth investing in---
He's polite, has nice stationery and knows to send gifts. I'm impressed.
A much more elegant and eloquent response than I tend to employ in such situations, Ms. Bugge. I generally just shred everything but my mailing address and stuff it all [along with as much other reply cards, coupons, newspaper and what-have-you as will fit] into the reply envelope and mail it back to them. Keeps postal workers employed and lessens the likelihood that I will be hearing from the likes of Ken again any time soon.
Did he send you the Netflik along with the love letter?"Cash and Country" maybe? about a poor girl whose forced to dive (dumpsters) due to improper investments at the hands of a Fish Called Ken.
Karin, you are brilliant. This is wonderful. ;)
Hey, Kenny! You’re back? I knew you’d surface again. I thought we’d have to dig you out of a hole, Saddam Hussein style. The Pack had heated seeking drones circling your old haunts. My best henchmen, Bubba Big Knuckles, was put back on the case. After the last “conversation” twix the twa of ya, he promised you would not surface again. Understand this, son. I have vested interests in the protection of The Hiker! If I have to cut the Big Dog loose from his kennel, I won’t give him any conditions. Luv ya, son. Don’t ever change. Stay where ya at!
Don’t worry, KB. We got ya back.
i am far from macho so we know it's not me ! Good luck with the gift....
Is that all it takes - nice stationery and a post-paid envelope?
Sheeesh.
Brilliant, Karin. But why does Ken keep writing to me????
Vanda - Carpet cleaners are not all bad.
Earl's right, Vanda. You love the 70's, and carpet cleaners know their way around a shag. Any other pun I leave in the hands of the master Earl.
Oh that damn Ken. What a sleaze. I shoulda known.
V
That's a berry good question, MrE!
But, I'll respect your privacy.
Something about hardwood floors.
Add a Joycean reference, -K-, and your chances are better.
I like Mid-Town's idea. Make sure "Ken" knows it's a post so "he" can read our comments.
150 points for Petrea, I'm with the idea all the way.
AH, what's the worst that could happen. What's this "hmmm maybe..." hesitation stuff? Think of it as fodder for all your loyal readers.
WV: tridshe (fitting)
Ok you two bullies, I'll send it. (Is this performance art?)
Do you have a P.O. box? If "Ken" is as dumb as he sounds he might show up with flowers.
Great stuff, AH. Is it my imagination, or have you been on a Big Roll lately?
Terry B, I've tried that several times, with no luck, I'm afraid. It sounds like such a good plan . . .
Gotta like Mid-Town's idea.
Love K's quip too. Guess we males will never get it.
Us K9's have no problem getting it.
I dunno what's the human problem.
Next time I have to go up that direction, I'll check on the address. GoogleMaps claims it doesn't exist, but that's not new.
I think it is amazing he can afford to send out all these invites---seems like every few months they show up! Doesn't Kenny know that when a woman doesn't respond to such a letter, she's NOT interested? Sometimes a "no" is just a "no!".
But I do like the concept of mailing stuff (ok,concrete) back in his envelope---he pays per pound (attach it to a box full of concrete)?
I knew someone who used to glue the BRC's to a brick, then mail it back.
I'm not that hostile. Besides (true confession) one of my less reputable jobs was writing copy for junk mail.
Performance Art? Mmmm, not really, but I guess it depends on the outcome.
It does sort of follow some conceptual art strategies where some of the artist's involved would write to corporations and heads of state asking for the most ridiculous things. If they got responses they would continue to write, and end up framing the correspondence. Interesting but admittedly rather dry.
Karin and Kenny
MTG: Ages ago I saw an exhibit where some chap wrote heads of state asking for a tie from their personal collection. He framed the ties along with their letters of response. Wasn't dry at all.
I am more than just happy to see you again, Karin.
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