Friday, May 27, 2011

Dear Emma,

This is a note to tell you that I think brunettes suit me more. My pillow cases are only ever white and I think the brown complements them well. I’m also not a fan of large breasts. Huge sacks of fat in my face are merely distracting and I have to concentrate on too many things as it is. To be honest, I also find them mildly scary, but I haven’t thought through exactly why. Lastly, I never used to be into taller girls, but I think I am now. I want to be able to share the cleaning of the tops of doorways with someone. Selfish, I know, but let’s be honest, it’s gotten to that stage.

On a more emotional level I think we could work. While you don’t have any of the physical attributes I am after, you are aware of when I am happy and when I am sad. I suppose the drinking and laughing are give aways. The smiling and the crying, too. In fact, let’s scrap that. You’re not right on that level, either.

In terms of intelligence, you fit many of the criteria. You have wit, but it’s a kind of borrowed wit. It’s never, to quote a song I can’t name just at the moment, off the top of your dome. Same goes for your philosophies. I am sure I have seen them on bumper stickers before. And don’t get me started on your rote learning, it pisses me off more than people standing two across on escalators, holding hands. I’ll chop their arms off. Maybe a little harsh. I can tell you won’t be smiling now.

Finally, you’ve never ever been into coffee. It hurts your stomach.

So, that’s it. Those are my qualms. Happy to still pursue something with you, but unless you’re willing to change, we can’t do business anymore. Apologies. If you need another accountant I’d be happy to recommend one. In fact, my colleague Chris is fond of blondes, even stupid ones like you.

Kind Regards,

Robert Francis Coleman.

Ps: I know you’re a client, but taking me out for lunch some day wouldn’t hurt. Or get me a little trinket from overseas next time that I can put on my desk. Chris doesn’t like trinkets, so don’t bother if you decide to go with him. Cheers, RFC. (Why did I sign off again…? So silly. I am). x