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The Letter I Am Afraid To Send
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Dear Reynaldo (I think that is your name),

You work at my favorite post office and I saw you today. For a year now you’ve been my favorite Postal Guy, since you’re careful with my precious manuscripts. You treat my shipments of fiction as if they matter to you, as well. And you used to joke with me about your grandkids and why I am not already published. But no more. Because now you look at me in fear every time you see me, ever since That Day.

That Day, I decided I should do the loving, Christian thing and tell you how much I appreciate you. I wanted you to know that you are special, and your extra concern for your job has been noticed. Appreciated! So I did. Just before I left, I said to you, “Reynaldo (or whatever your name is, since I have forgotten), you are the reason I come in here instead of going to the other post office. Thank you.”

And did you say ‘thanks,’ or ‘see ya next time you want to send off another pile of fiction somewhere?’ No. No, you did not, Reynaldo (or whatever your name is since I have forgotten). You did a double take and looked at me with brown eyes, extra wide. So I left, and since then? Since then I get the same, almost-scared look that I have not understood.

My mom visited lately and I told her of That Day. Her eyes, too, grew wide, as she explained that I had definitely – quite by accident – flirted with you. I was shocked. I only meant ‘thank you’ but somehow I must have said so much more. How surprised was my mother, when she said to me, “Romance Writer, hello? ‘You’re the reason I come in here?!’” And then I realized she was right. I inadvertently came on to you, and now you fear me. Crazy woman, thirty years your junior, who can write lots of fiction, but who completely bumbled a simple ‘thank you.’ 

I apologize. I am not obsessing over you, although I have given you reason to believe otherwise. Truly, I do not even remember your name. (But I really think it’s Reynaldo.) I just remember the wonderful way you used to take care of my mail – and how now you tend to always get really busy, and then your far less competent co-worker must help me. I will never, ever look into his eyes and tell him what I told you That Day.  Actually, I have learned my lesson and I will never say those words again. From now on, I shall avoid eye contact, avoid talk of grandchildren, and remember to only say, “Thanks.”

Not Lusting Over You Even A Little (I promise!),


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Your Comments

sally Said:

You are hysterical. I just came over from the ACFW list. Thanks for posting the link there. This is funny stuff.

on Jan 14, 2006 5:49:42 PM

Oh that's funny. Sounds like something I would do. Somehow it always sounds different in my head before it comes out my mouth.

A fellow ACFWer. :)

on Jan 14, 2006 6:35:04 PM
Paula Said:

wonderful post. Maybe Renaldo will visit your blog and relax! LOL

Welcome to blogland. I'm so glad you've joined in the fun.

on Jan 15, 2006 2:17:57 PM
Anne Glamore Said:

I'm just gratefulyou found a nice person at the P.O. I posted about the mean lady at ours. Hard to act Christian when someone is so awful! But I tried.

on Jan 20, 2006 8:07:43 AM