Dear Beard (Pt. 2)

Dear Beard,
I know we’re both kinda new to this, but allow me to make myself perfectly clear.
I’m already desperately clinging to my youth.
The fact that you make me look old, well, it’s just not working for me.
I understand, with great beard comes great responsibility, but nobody told me that with great beard comes about five extra years.
I mean, some guy just yesterday asked me how old I was. Before I had the opportunity to respond, he said, “what? you must be, like, 29?”
No sir, no I am not.
After careful consideration, I’ve concluded that it’s your fault.
I mean, it’s gotta be the beard. But I guess there’s not much else I can do… well, besides shave.
But let’s not be too hasty, okay? Just consider this your first warning.
Sincerely,
Calhoun

PS the picture of me holding a newborn baby probably doesn’t do much to make me look younger, so that one is my bad

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Dear Beard

Dear Beard,
I’ve been patient.
I mean, I even started No Shave November a full two weeks in advance.
But I’m at my wit’s end.
You’re scratchy. You’re patchy. You’ve got me so annoyed, I’m even rhyming.
So please, just grow already!
Sincerely,
Calhoun

Dear Guy Who Speaks Broken Spanish

Dear Guy Who Speaks Broken Spanish,
Um… the guy you keep talking to speaks English, you know that, right?
I mean, I get it. I know that he looks Latino (and he is) but, well, what are you trying to prove by speaking Spanish poorly to him?
It’s a little weird. In fact, it’s a little racist too. More importantly, it’s a little dumb.
Seriously, you both speak English just fine.
It’s not like you’re improving your Spanish by speaking to this guy in Spanish.
You repeat the same three broken phrases in the same robotic monotone.
It’s just embarrassing.
Please stop.
Sincerely,
Calhoun

Dear Attractive Guy

Dear Attractive Guy,
Here’s the thing, to accuse me of being shy would be ridiculous.
I’m not. Never really have been.
But, like they say, there’s an exception to every rule.
Classmates? Friends? People at a bar? I’m fine. A social butterfly even.
Pretty people? I get tongue tied.
So here’s what I would have liked to say if I wasn’t so goddamn terrified.
“I think you’re pretty.
Wanna move to Massachusetts and get married? I’d be open to Vermont too.
We could even adopt some super cute babies together.
oh, but where are my manners? I’m getting ahead of myself.
We should probably have sex before we get married.”
I think I just need to work up to all that…
Sincerely,
Calhoun

Dear Muttering Guy

Dear Muttering Guy,
Seriously, that’s an impressive Rain man impression you’re doin’ there, but, well, it’s starting to freak me out a little.
I keep glancing up every so often just to see if you actually know that you’re talking out loud, but about the fourth or fifth awkward eye contact, it became abundantly clear that you knew what you were doing.
But I get it. We all have our different ways of studying and I’m guessing talking to yourself is just your way of coping.
Still, on the off chance that you see this after your test or just randomly some day, I’m wishing you luck on your test… and hoping that the creepy muttering is coming to a close soon.
Sincerely,
Calhoun

Dear Pedicab Drivers

Dear Pedicab Drivers,
I think it’s important to start out by saying, this is by no means a judgment.
It’s more of an… observation, if you will.
So, your job is to basically ride around on a bicycle, taking people from place to place, right?
I mean, we both have the same basic understanding of what pedicabs do.
Then… well, this is a bit indelicate, but… why are you so many of you… portly gentlemen?
Your job is actually exercise.
Most of us hafta wait to get off of work in order to work out, but seriously, you should be working out while you’re at work.
I’m just saying, it’s a rather surprising phenomenon.
So if anybody could clue me in as to what that’s all about, I’d appreciate it.
Thanks.
Sincerely,
Calhoun

Dear Booty Call

Dear Booty Call,
I suppose I should at least feign shame or indignation that I’m actually writing this letter to a booty call, but let’s be real, these things need to say.
I can’t speak for most people, but the general appeal of a booty call is a lack of commitment and a general “do as you please” kinda attitude. That’s the great thing about the booty call.
However, the operative word is “call.”
It’s not called a “booty show-up-whenever-you-damn-please-and-ring-the-goddamn-buzzer.”
That might be our first issue. Sure, i could turn it into some big thing, like “you don’t think I have anything better to do than to stay at home and wait for you?” or some bullshit, but who are we kidding? It was one o’clock in the morning, it wasn’t very likely that I was gonna be anywhere else.
In fact, that’s the real problem.
I was home.
I was sleeping.
Ya know how they say that people need their “beauty sleep?” Yeah, I never really bought into it either, but the truth is, you wake me up at one in the morning and I’m an ugly person. Not physically. I mean, c’mon, I’m pretty much always perfection, but I’m talking more about the fact that at one in the morning, I’m much more prone to yelling… and that’s something you may not wanna deal with.
Just something to keep in mind in case you ever wanna stop by at one in the morning.
Sincerely,
Calhoun