Dear Relationship Gods

Dear Relationship Gods,
What kind of sick game are you playing?
I mean, have you ever noticed how this thing goes?
I start getting interested in someone, they say “it’s not you, it’s me” or give me the “just friends” speech and all of a sadden, the blindfold is off.
Like, I can’t stand the way he chews or I remember how laying down with him, his shoulder-blade would always dig into my left pec or something.
It doesn’t mean that they’re bad people. In fact, I know that it’s a defense mechanism.
Still, maybe you could stop being such a dick? Maybe? Cuz I feel bad when there’s that whole reveal… makes me think that I might not be that nice of a guy.
So knock it off!
Sincerely,
Calhoun

Dear Clerk at Greenlife

Dear Clerk at Greenlife,
Thank you for asking me how my calculus test went… now, what are you talking about exactly?
Forget the fact that I didn’t even take calculus when I was in high school, did you seriously think I was a high schooler?
Ya know, now that I think about it, I was wearing a Hellboy backpack so maybe it isn’t that far outta the realm of possibility, but still…
Sincerely,
Calhoun

Dear Internal Clock

Dear Internal Clock,
Exactly what kinda game are you running, sir?
I mean, seriously, can we at least talk about this?
I get it, ya gotta have a weekend schedule. Those 9 PM – 3 AM shifts would kick your ass otherwise.
But somehow, I get through those just fine, don’t I?
When you finally get off work and get back home, of course you’re gonna crash.
But still waking up at 8 AM, like you would any other day?
That’s just unacceptable. It’s called sleeping in. Those days you wake up at 8… well, it’s usually cuz you’re an old man and went to bed at 11 the night before, but you need your rest!
Or else, ya know what happens?
That’s right. You fall asleep on your date. Not like, during the date (although that happened too…) but literally on your date.
You’re lucky he just went with it… even if it was pretty mortifying.
So maybe next time just sleep a little later instead of sleeping on some poor unassuming guy, eh?
Sincerely,
Calhoun

Dear Work

Dear Work,
Yeah, I don’t think I’m comin’ in today.
Think I mighta drank a little too much last night, so I’m feelin’ a little ache-y and just kinda tired all-around.
I mean, as bar owners, I’d imagine you understand the “drank too much” defense, yeah?
Okay, good. so yeah, I’ll see ya next week… or whenever I feel like it, sound good?
… yeah, I wish that was how it worked too.
See you at 9. Sharp.
Sincerely,
Calhoun

Dear Guy

Dear Guy,
We’ve been hanging out a while and talking a lot and so far I’ve really enjoyed it.
Relax, this isn’t one of those “what are we?” talks. Please, I’d have a little more tact than to do that in a blog post… well, plus, that’s not really something I’d do at all.
No, this is more about your fun little nickname for me.
“Bud.” Buddy.” On far too many occasions, I’ve received the nondescript moniker.
I’m sure it comes from a good place, I’m not judging that.
It’s more the association I have with “bud.”
See, whenever my dad gets a call from one of his sons (there are three, mind you) he steers the conversation away from calling us by name. If backed into a corner, he’ll call one of us “bud” or “buddy” to hide the fact that he has no idea which son he is talking to.
It’s not that we all sound alike. We don’t. It’s that his memory is that bad.
So do you see why I’m not a fan of “bud”? Because I truly hope that is the only similarity that you and my father.
Sincerely,
Calhoun

Dear Netflix

Dear Netflix,
I know, it seems like I’ve been picking on you a lot lately, but, well, you’re a profitable company, how ’bout you get your shit together and then I won’t have any material?
The latest in a long line of complaints against you isn’t so much about your content. In fact, when I saw you had The Awakening streaming, i was pretty pleasantly surprised. It’s a solid film. Great atmosphere, solid acting, with a distinct hint of The Others‘ considerable charm. Really, top-notch choice. Let’s look at your description of the film, shall we?

“In post-World War I England, a boarding school haunted by a boy’s ghost calls on Florence Cathcart, who disproves hoaxes for a living. But Cathcart senses something truly strange about the school, leading her to question her belief in the rational.”

Now… seriously, what to do with that? Besides being an absolute abortion of the English language, it doesn’t really make any goddamn sense. How can a boarding school call on someone? It’s a quick fix too. “The headmaster of a boarding school…” All you need. Seriously, that’s it.
Next time just get someone with even a tenable grasp on the English language to write your descriptions for you, ya know?
Sincerely,
Calhoun

Dear Fellow Grad Student

Dear Fellow Grad Student,
Let’s talk about tact, shall we? Mainly because you seem so wildly unfamiliar with the term.
I mean, I am legitimately curious about what made you think this post was appropriate?
I’m sure your article is fascinating… if not a well-tread topic.
But to use the events in Boston as a means of self-promotion?
This coming from a man who slept with his ex three times after they broke up… that is still not nearly as bad as what you managed to do with social media.
Moving on to the next segment.
What possessed you to pair those two thoughts together? Was it that they were both celebrations of how great you are?
Cuz… um… the whole Boston thing followed by your e-book? It’s like a bad episode of Girls here.
That’s it. That’s what you are. You are gay dude Hannah Horvath.
It’s actually uncomfortable how spot on that description is… but here I go, congratulating myself.
I think you may be rubbing off on me. I’m gonna go try and find something selfless to do.
Sincerely,
Calhoun