Dear . . . Umm. . . Ah. . . Well

Dear Frank’s Girlfriend:

I’m sorry,  I don’t know your name. Which seems strange, given that I know so much about you now. I would liked to have gotten your name, but you seemed to be otherwise occupied and overly concered about Frank. Additionally, it was about 4 in the morning when you were having this argument underneath my bedroom window, and while I woke up and listened (well, was forced to listen really), I just didn’t see my way clear to interrupting into your, well, your spate of verbal diarrhea about Frank, so that I could ask your name. I’m sorry about that.

As I discovered last night (and my neighbours, and my neighbour’s neighbour’s, and likely some people on the next block), the course of true love never did run smooth – for anyone really, but especially you and Frank. Now, I understand (well, not really) that it must be aggravating when Frank insists in putting his penis into vagina’s that don’t belong to you (no I’m not going to use the more colourful words you used – they would likely startle people, I know they certainly startled me!) I can imagine that this situation would be, well distressing. I can imagine that this situation might make someone (like you, for example) use certain very bad words as nouns, verbs, adjectives and prepositional forms. I must say, I was very impressed that you thought to add an ‘-y’ ending to make the word an adverb. Very clever that.

In fact, while what I heard of your vocabulary was limited (and I’m fairly certain I heard everything you were saying), you seem like a clever enough lady.

So, I have to ask, four times? You have taken this man back four times? Four? Really?

And yet, judging by your tetchiness last night, and your significant vocal skill to make this tetchiness known, I am surprised. Oh, not that he seems to have put his genitalia yet another place it doesn’t belong – but I must say, I am surprised that you were surprised. In fact, I am bewildered. Oh, I know it was late. (There’s that pesky 4 am thing again. . .) But surely you saw this coming?

Dear Frank’s Girlfriend – might I make a humble suggestion? Using a few words that I noticed you didn’t use last night, even though they seem strangely appropriate?

Kick his sorry, loser keister to the curb.

Warm regards and best of luck,

Mrs. Spit.

(You might know me more accurately as the bedroom window that lit up. The house with the dogs barking. Yes, that one.)

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10 Responses to Dear . . . Umm. . . Ah. . . Well

  1. a says:

    Geez, the suburbs are boring…

  2. loribeth says:

    OMG!!! Thank you for the laugh this morning, I needed it. Although I’m sure it wasn’t very funny, being woken up by THAT at 4 a.m.

    Was she complaining to him, to a friend, or (increasingly likely these days) just talking too loud on a cellphone??

    I second your vote.

  3. Kuri says:

    An acronym I learned on metafilter: DTMFA would apply well here. (It’s also consistent with her chosen vocabulary.)

  4. Carmen says:

    Is it wrong this made me chuckle? My world is definitely not that interesting at 4 am. Except the one time a drug addict crawled under Nate’s truck and started screaming. But I slept through all of it and thought Nate was lying to me in the morning – lol.

  5. Brown Owl says:

    no – it is not funny – and potentially scary given proximaty from street side to house, but I laughed too!

    maybe she could just text him next time? That is, if she doesn’t follow your excellent advice!

  6. she sounds like the young lady i heard out my own window one summer 3am, berating her gentleman caller not because he was putting his penis in other vaginas, not even because she had walked in on him doing same, but because when she walked in on him, he didn’t get up out of bed.

    once i heard that, i stopped yelling “shut UP!” and started in on “he’s no good for you!”

  7. debby says:

    Oh, but Mrs. Spit…she looooooooooves him.

  8. Azaera says:

    Lol. That was pretty amusing. Four times she’s taken him back now? Really? Wow. Just wow.

  9. Trish says:

    Oh my word! ::hides snicker behind monitor::

  10. Jacquie says:

    My sister dated a Frank. He wore glasses all the time! We called him FF (use your imagination on what the 1st F stands for and it’s not fun 😉 )
    We were so very happy when she kicked him to the curb…..

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