Monday, March 2, 2015

Open Letter to Cute Dude at The Post Office Store

Dear Cute Dude at The Post Office Store,

Every time I go into The Post Office Store, you’re in there singing along to some awesome music and I’m guessing that you were probably out for a long time the night before drinking microbrews and seeing a band. 

I know this, because in addition to listening to loud awesome music, you are always wearing some cool, worn-in T-shirt and also have brown eyes and a beard and lots of tattoos. In fact, I just complimented you on a few new tattoos today. A couple of times I’ve deduced the awesome music you were listening to and went back to my desk to check it out on Rdio/Pandora.

I don’t know your name, but I'm all but positive it's something really cool that could also be a last name.

You’re definitely at least ten years younger than me and probably have a girlfriend with cute, perky, little bra-optional size B boobs un-chewed upon by babies; a husky voice; and a couple of dogs from the Gastineau Humane Society. (I am super allergic to dogs by the way). So I feel extra lame mailing in shit like tax forms and the iPad charger and remote control helicopter parts that my dad (a.k.a. grandpa) left behind the last time he was visiting.

Because Juneau is a small town, you are all but guaranteed to read this at some point. Probably within two weeks. Sometime between now and then, someone will figure out who I’m talking about and will send this to you and be like, “OMG. Guess WHAT [Insert-cool-sounding-last-name-first-name-here]!? You’ll never believe this! You know that totally wacked-out, desperate housewife mommy-blogger, One Hot Mess? Have you heard of her? Probably not. No reason you would have. ANYWAY, you have to check this out: She wrote a whole blog post about how cool you probably are and how lame she is by comparison!”

Please don't be flattered by any of this though. It’s not really supposed to be flattering. It’s really just a testament to my shamelessness that I’m willing to guarantee this outcome and a sign that I’m always over-reaching for material.

I doubt you’re married with kids, unlike me. But you could very well have a kid and might be paying child support for all I know. I have no idea.

In any event, I’m definitely way too old and way too far down the black, yawning, cavernous abyss of the Mariana Trench known as reality, life decisions, and old age to be like: “OMG, there’s a cute dude at The Post Office Store!” for five seconds every couple of weeks.

And yet, for five seconds every couple of weeks, I find myself wishing I was not wearing my lame mom puffy overcoat jacket/purse (both of which would easily look perfectly good on someone twice my age, wheeling a square metal shopping cart around the street) and that my $472 wrinkle cream would arrive in the mail already. 

By the way: if there’s a problem with my $472 wrinkle cream, I’ll have to come back to The Post Office Store.


  1. Not only is he cute, he always shifts my perspective. Totally worth stopping by Kindred Post!

  2. Not only is he cute, he always shifts my perspective. Totally worth stopping by Kindred Post!

  3. He made me stay and listen to two extra songs ... And I did just to be momentarily awesome :)

  4. Yeah! Conner is great, love that guy!


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