Back in the day, Mom told me to keep all the love letters I received so I could have fond memories of the guys who sent them. When she told me this, I was a skinny bespectacled kid who never got valentines, let alone love letters.
Fast forward through the years and I did get a decent amount of correspondence from guys. The first one I remember came in fourth grade from my best friend, Franklin. He wore glasses too and the boys in our class called him a "fag" because of his mannerisms. One day in class, he slipped me a note that said: "Do you think we're falling in love? Check yes, no or I don't know." At 11 years old, love was a word I reserved for Mom, Dad, and my poster of Taimak. For whatever the reason, I checked yes.
That was Franklin. We had the typical, childish ‘I-go-with-you/I-quit-you’ kind of relationship. I didn't keep his note, even though, like Mom said, it would have been nice to revisit. I did keep a few letters that I received later in life -- one from a guy I met at the beach the summer I turned 17 and another from an inmate in prison writing workshop that I helped facilitate. (I didn't intend to keep these letters, I just found them piled in with some paperwork.) I never expected to receive another letter, but I was wrong.
A few weeks ago, I arrived at my desk and saw a strategically folded paper towel with the words 'Open Up' on the outside. Keep in mind, it's 8 a.m., I haven't had my tea and my brain isn't functioning properly. I stared at the words a few minutes, contemplating the meaning of 'open up.' I concluded that one of my colleagues left that there to remind me not to be so reserved, to let my hair down a little. Point taken, I thought, and I tossed it in the trash.
The next day, there was another paper towel. This time it had ‘For You’ on the front and I opened it. "This is someone that sees you all the time but really never had a chance to talk to you because sweetheart u move fast when u are in the hallways but at least I get to see that pretty smile. If you are ok with it I would like to get to know you if that's cool. Have a nice day. Are you taken?" The note was signed '_ _ _ Y.'
Now, I can play hangman with the best of them, but I had no idea who _ _ _ Y was. Could it be the quiet maintenance man for whom I've been harboring a secret crush? Or was it the other maintenance man who is always mopping the front area when I arrive? Maybe it's that married, older bigwig in another department who always stares at my ass.
Anyway, I grabbed my own paper towel and addressed my own note to Mr. _ _ _ Y. I basically said that I was flattered and I apologized for throwing out the first note, but I had no clue that it was a note. I also said that he could get to know me, but I wasn't interested in dating anyone these days, but I also wanted to know who he was. When I came to work the next day, the blanks were filled in as TONY. There was no note, nothing. I guess he felt like I played him, but I hope not. I thought the gesture was really sweet, but I just have a deep disdain for all things male at the moment.
To this day, I am not positive who Tony, a.k.a. the Paper Towel Bandit, is. I suspect it is the fella that's mopping the hallways when I arrive (he's the one of the few people I see everyday), but I'm not positive. And if it is him, what do I say? "Hey, are you the guy that's been hovering around my desk at all hours?" With my luck, it's probably the cute maintenance man (even though his nametag lists a name that's nowhere near Tony) and I've scared him away. Sigh. I can't win.
Fast forward through the years and I did get a decent amount of correspondence from guys. The first one I remember came in fourth grade from my best friend, Franklin. He wore glasses too and the boys in our class called him a "fag" because of his mannerisms. One day in class, he slipped me a note that said: "Do you think we're falling in love? Check yes, no or I don't know." At 11 years old, love was a word I reserved for Mom, Dad, and my poster of Taimak. For whatever the reason, I checked yes.
That was Franklin. We had the typical, childish ‘I-go-with-you/I-quit-you’ kind of relationship. I didn't keep his note, even though, like Mom said, it would have been nice to revisit. I did keep a few letters that I received later in life -- one from a guy I met at the beach the summer I turned 17 and another from an inmate in prison writing workshop that I helped facilitate. (I didn't intend to keep these letters, I just found them piled in with some paperwork.) I never expected to receive another letter, but I was wrong.
A few weeks ago, I arrived at my desk and saw a strategically folded paper towel with the words 'Open Up' on the outside. Keep in mind, it's 8 a.m., I haven't had my tea and my brain isn't functioning properly. I stared at the words a few minutes, contemplating the meaning of 'open up.' I concluded that one of my colleagues left that there to remind me not to be so reserved, to let my hair down a little. Point taken, I thought, and I tossed it in the trash.
The next day, there was another paper towel. This time it had ‘For You’ on the front and I opened it. "This is someone that sees you all the time but really never had a chance to talk to you because sweetheart u move fast when u are in the hallways but at least I get to see that pretty smile. If you are ok with it I would like to get to know you if that's cool. Have a nice day. Are you taken?" The note was signed '_ _ _ Y.'
Now, I can play hangman with the best of them, but I had no idea who _ _ _ Y was. Could it be the quiet maintenance man for whom I've been harboring a secret crush? Or was it the other maintenance man who is always mopping the front area when I arrive? Maybe it's that married, older bigwig in another department who always stares at my ass.
Anyway, I grabbed my own paper towel and addressed my own note to Mr. _ _ _ Y. I basically said that I was flattered and I apologized for throwing out the first note, but I had no clue that it was a note. I also said that he could get to know me, but I wasn't interested in dating anyone these days, but I also wanted to know who he was. When I came to work the next day, the blanks were filled in as TONY. There was no note, nothing. I guess he felt like I played him, but I hope not. I thought the gesture was really sweet, but I just have a deep disdain for all things male at the moment.
To this day, I am not positive who Tony, a.k.a. the Paper Towel Bandit, is. I suspect it is the fella that's mopping the hallways when I arrive (he's the one of the few people I see everyday), but I'm not positive. And if it is him, what do I say? "Hey, are you the guy that's been hovering around my desk at all hours?" With my luck, it's probably the cute maintenance man (even though his nametag lists a name that's nowhere near Tony) and I've scared him away. Sigh. I can't win.
No matter who it is, I folded my little paper towel note up and placed it in my top drawer, right next to my Robin Thicke ticket stub. This might be one of the few notes that I keep.
**Update: I found out who Tony is. It is the dude that's always mopping the front areas when I arrive. I introduced myself to him the other day. Nice guy, but I'm not interested.***
4 comments:
Thank you, Detective Smith! I was thinking it was him, since he could easily get to my desk early in the a.m. when no one is around.
"Disdain for all things male"? Wow, that's deep. But one thing my mom told me (and one of the rare times I listened), is that love comes ONLY when we're not looking for it...food for thought s/c/w/. Peace!
if i were you, i'd investigate further on who this tony dude is.
You know how I feel about this. :o)
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