“Dear Sexy Knickers…”

A few days ago I sat in front of my computer trying to figure out how to write an e-mail. No not just any old e-mail message, but I was going to write to Venegas with the hope of communicating with her for the first time since George’s despedida several weeks prior. That night was a memorable evening partially not just for the good things like talking with colleagues I hadn’t seen for months or spending a night out. Much like a lot of people that night, I gravitated to the open bar. Unlike most of those people I got plastered. Usually this is not a bad thing since I have the uncanny ability to find other people that are tipsy and we talk and bitch and have a marvelous time. Unfortunately those people were at a loss that night I ended up drunkenly bitching to women like Venegas.

“Hey, hey” I slurred “you know you’re so lucky to be out of school and into the ‘real world,’ whatever the fuck that means”.

“um thanks” said Venegas, who moments earlier was explaining to me the myriad of odd jobs and countless number of times she moved since she graduated a year ago.

“I mean, for someone as smart and CUTE like you it shouldn’t be that hard,” I grumbled except for when I yelped “CUTE.”

“It’s like, it’s like, it’s like a university dean told me mmmmmmmmmany years ago. If you like what you do and you’re good, like okay, at it then it’s the right career move for your job it’s good like that no problem y’know.” For cryin’ out loud even when I had a smart thought it came out of my mouth in the form of grammatical diarrhea.

No wonder she left earlier than anyone had expected.

So as I sat in front of my computer I had no clue what to write.

And then I had a flash of brilliance in which I quickly typed:

Dear Sexy Knickers, I don't half fancy you. Meet me outside at five-thirty and we'll get it together.

It would have been perfect. She never would have expected and may receive a good chuckle from it. Moreover, it would be a funny way for her to understand my intentions with her- to get to know her better beyond a semi-distant friendship. Perhaps she would get the reference and hopefully not rebuff my intentions like Ms. Brahms was wont to do.

Instead I get cold feet and pretty much write the following:

Buenas noches Srta. Venegas. I trust everything has been relatively good so far…mind you I should’ve told you this ages ago, but it was a pleasure to see you at George’s despedida a few weeks ago… it has been very comforting to still have you as such a fabulous friend for the past couple of years…I hope you enjoy the rest of the weekend, week, month, etc. Let me know when you’re up for a film, lunch, concert, museum, whatever your mind fancies…Adieu!

I sent it out after thinking it over for a few minutes. I’ve yet to receive a reply. Maybe I should’ve risked sending the original message.

Besides, Mr. Lucas’ efforts did not always end in vain.