Tag Archives: Letters

THERE IS A GREMLIN ON THE WING. No, I kid. It’s just a Celica.

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Dear Alaska Airlines,

Hi! It’s me, Geraldine. You might remember me from such notable trips as AA Flight #476, Seattle to L.A. (the one that was so bumpy, NO SNACKS WERE HANDED OUT, which turned out to be not that big a deal because I spent the evening throwing up, anyway) or last month’s AA Flight #12, Seattle to Boston, during which I could not stop farting (a.k.a., Stinks on a Plane) and also, I lost my camera.

Let me know if that thing turns up, okay? There are some photos on there that I want. In particular, several snapshots of a collage I made of Elvis Presley being eaten by a robotic T-Rex wearing a bow-tie. I used my copy of Alaska Airlines Magazine to create the masterpiece. After all, you said it was mine to keep (also, your editorial staff keeps ignoring my article pitches on how to conceal your farts on cross-country flights. Granted, I am clearly unqualified to speak on that topic.)

I have utterly lost my train of thought.

No, wait, I got it!

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Why does no one ever mistakenly deliver cupcakes to my house?

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I get email. Lots of it. Sometimes, it’s not even meant for me. (A phenomenon that I can’t quite fathom. When people don’t have someone’s email address, do they just guess, and follow it with “@gmail.com”? Do they deduce phone numbers by punching a random series of numbers? Instead of asking where their friends live, do they drive around neighborhoods and knock on door after door? Because otherwise I DON’T UNDERSTAND.)

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To the little blond kid on Alaska Air Flight #232,

It seems we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot.

I see this as largely your fault, of course. When you saw me quietly sleeping in my chair, you – for reasons that defy logic (Was it curiosity? Thoughtlessness? Demonic possession? I’m leaning towards the latter) – decided to shake the back of my seat vigorously until I woke up.

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A message to my bro, on his (AGE REDACTED) birthday;

Remember how mom used to make us celebrate our birthdays together on the 14th?

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And how we totally hated it? When you put your foot down and declared enough of that – SEPARATE BIRTHDAYS, DAMN IT! – I was completely happy. I didn’t miss celebrating with you at all. Nope. Not one bit.

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So, are you coming to visit again soon? Not like I care. Whatever. Have a happy birthday or something.

Sincerely,
Your sister

Last night I penned this:

It's true.

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