by Michael Kun
Dear Bob,
It’s been approximately a week, and you still have not returned the copy of Spank Me! Harder! Harder! that was sent to me in error. I would appreciate it if you would return it to me so I can return it to the publisher and try to get a refund.
Thanks,
Sid
FROM THE DESK OF SID STRAW
Dear Bob,
I was disappointed to hear that you have apparently lost the copy of Spank Me! Harder! Harder! that I was planning to return to the publisher for a refund. Would it be possible to reimburse me from petty cash?
Thanks,
Sid
Sid Straw
2748 Palmeyer Street Apt. 230
Baltimore, Maryland 21201
Dear Kate,
Just a quick note to let you know I was thinking of you.
How are things with you and your boyfriend? Hope you have a nice holiday weekend.
Let’s talk soon.
Best wishes,
Sid
Sid Straw
2748 Palmeyer Street Apt. 230
Baltimore, Maryland 21201
To the Editor:
I am in receipt of your newsletter, Spanking Monthly. I do not know how I got on your mailing list, but I demand that you remove my name from your list immediately. I have no interest in receiving your publication—ESPECIALLY AT WORK!
Sincerely,
Sid Straw
FROM THE DESK OF SID STRAW
Dear Jeanne,
My apologies for yesterday’s incident. As I explained, I have no idea how or why that unseemly publication was sent to me.
Sincerely,
Sid
Sid Straw
2748 Palmeyer Street Apt. 230
Baltimore, Maryland 21201
To the Editor:
I am in receipt of your publication, Hot Bottoms Ready for Spanking. I have no idea how I got on your mailing list, but I demand that you remove my name immediately. I have no interest in receiving your publication—ESPECIALLY AT WORK!
Sincerely,
Sid Straw
FROM THE DESK OF SID STRAW
Dear Jeanne,
Again, my apologies for yesterday’s incident.
Sincerely,
Sid
FROM THE DESK OF SID STRAW
Dear Bob,
I don’t know how I got on the mailing list for those publications!
I look forward to talking with you about them soon.
Sincerely,
Sid
FROM THE DESK OF SID STRAW
Dear Jeanne,
I am disappointed to hear that you will be transferring to another department, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy working with Sam Haller. He’s a great guy!
Thanks for all of your help. Good luck!
Sid
FROM THE DESK OF SID STRAW
Dear Bob,
Yes, I am familiar with Kate Drew over at General Transport. She’s a great girl. But, no, I haven’t been sending her “inappropriate” notes, nor have I been trying to reach her by pretending to be someone named “Ted.” I also have no idea what she thinks I was talking about when I said she had a narrow throat since I was clearly referring to my mother’s lasagna.
I look forward to discussing this matter with you.
Sincerely,
Sid
Sid Straw
2748 Palmeyer Street Apt. 230
Baltimore, Maryland 21201
Dear Heather,
Have you ever felt like your life was falling apart and you were powerless to stop it? That’s the way I feel these days. So many things are happening, and I don’t seem to have any control over them.
First, of course, was the restraining order, which you already know about. Then, my parents split up briefly because of a terrible misunderstanding. Then, there was an unfortunate incident at work that I’d rather not discuss. Now, just when I was at peace with those matters, I’ve been suspended from work for a week, unpaid. Do you remember Kate? It seems Kate’s boss called our Company President to complain about me “harassing” her at work. Bob Rice, our President, is generally a good guy, but he doesn’t want to lose a big customer. Unfortunately, when he talked with me about this, I said a few things that, in retrospect, I shouldn’t have said. Specifically, I said, “How can I be harassing her? I’ve kissed her, for godssakes!” That was a mistake for two reasons: 1) it was ungentlemanly, and 2) it suggested my interest in Kate was purely sexual, which is not the case at all, as you know. You don’t call someone an “angel” if your interest is purely sexual, do you?
The other mistake I made was mentioning the restraining order Mr. Riceborough obtained against me; it seemed to make Bob more convinced that he needed to take some disciplinary action against me. Objectively, I understand that he needed to do something to keep the client’s business. Subjectively, I don’t understand at all. I just keep thinking, “I’m Sid Straw. I was an altar boy and have never been arrested. I’m the Co-Chairperson of our reunion committee. I give money to charity. How can I be suspended from work?” The other thing I keep thinking is, “What does everyone in the office think? How will they treat me when I return?”
You know me, Heather. I’m not a bad guy. I’m not perfect, but I’m not a bad guy.
I hope things are going better for you than they are for me. If I still have a job and can afford the trip, I’ll look for you at the reunion.
Best wishes,
Sid Straw
Sid Straw
2748 Palmeyer Street Apt. 230
Baltimore, Maryland 21201
Heather,
Day 1 of my suspension. So far, it’s been entirely uneventful. I slept late, had some coffee and read the paper, then went for a walk. It was a pretty gray day in Baltimore, but what’s new? It’s always gray here.
I’ve tried to put together a list of things to focus on. Here’s my list so far:
1) Make a commitment to do the best possible work every single day.
2) Eat healthier (I have to admit I eat too much junk food. That stops NOW!)
3) Don’t be so picky about who I date.
4) Join a softball league (to stay in shape).
5) Do charity work.
6) Repair my relationship with Tom’s wife, Janet. (I have to make her forget about what happened at the wedding. It’s been FOUR YEARS ALREADY!)
7) Read more (books, not newspapers or magazines).
8) Spend more time planning the reunion. (We still don’t have a place lined up for brunch!)
9) Be more generous.
10) Go to church on Sunday mornings.
Hopefully, I’ll be able to stick to my list longer than I normally maintain my New Year’s resolutions. Those normally last about five minutes before they go flying out the window like a caged bird released.
The real reason for my letter, however, is to apologize. I don’t mean to dump all my problems on you. Heck, we haven’t even seen each other in almost two decades. It’s just that sometimes the people who knew you when you were younger understand you better than anyone else. So thanks for listening to (or should I say, “reading”) my problems.
Eat Wheaties!
Sid Straw
Sid Straw
2748 Palmeyer Street Apt. 230
Baltimore, Maryland 21201
To the Baltimore Union Mission:
Enclosed please find a check for $25 to help the needy in Baltimore. You have my admiration and best wishes.
Sincerely,
Sid Straw
Sid Straw
2748 Palmeyer Street Apt. 230
Baltimore, Maryland 21201
Dear Heather,
Day 2 of the suspension.
I picked up a copy of James Joyce’s Ulysses at the bookstore. I’d been meaning to read it for years and I figured I’ve got a little time on my hands this week. (Also, if you’ll remember, “read more” is item No. 7 on my list of things to do.) Have you read this book? I’m only 3 pages in, and I HAVE NO ID
EA WHAT THIS GUY’S TALKING ABOUT! Either the version I bought was the result of some terrible mishap at the printer’s, causing the words to be printed in some random order, or this guy’s writing is all gibberish. That, or I’m just not sophisticated enough to understand. It’s probably that latter, don’t you think?
While I was at the bookstore, I also picked up a copy of the new In Style magazine because you were on the cover. I hope you take this in the spirit in which it is intended and nothing more, but the picture of you on the cover is absolutely stunning! Really, it’s breathtaking. I read the interview, too, and thought it was great. It really seems like you have a perfect life. I couldn’t be happier for you! It must be wonderful to have all your dreams come true. In fact, I’ll bet every day feels like a dream. Am I right?
Since I had some time on my hands today, I called a few of our old classmates. I talked with Dave Lambert. Do you remember him? He’s working on Wall Street these days. He’s married and has three kids (two boys, one girl). He sounds very happy. It was great to catch up with him; we probably haven’t spoken since the 15th reunion. I may go up to N.Y. to visit him and his family later in the year. It’s a quick trip up by plane, train or car. (I’ll probably take the train so I can work on the way). Anyway, he said for me to say hello if I should talk with you. So, “Hello.”
I talked with Jim Dailey and Debbie Soriano. They’re both doing well, too, and they swear they’ll be at the reunion. They also asked me to say hello to you. So, “Hello,” again.
I tried to track down Tracy Swid on the internet, but couldn’t find her anywhere. Maybe you know where she is.
Hope all’s well out in sunny California.
Eat Wheaties!
Sid Straw
Sid Straw
2748 Palmeyer Street Apt. 230
Baltimore, Maryland 21201
Dear Heather,
Day three of Sid Straw: The Suspension. (Sounds like a movie, doesn’t it? Feel free to pitch it to any of your Hollywood producer friends. Of course, I’m more than willing to play the role of the hero, “Sid Straw.” I’ve been rehearsing for a very long time.)
I’m no longer reading Ulysses. I’m going to see if the bookstore will let me return it. Why not? God knows the spine’s not broken. (If the spine’s broken, they won’t let you return the book. Trust me.) I’m going to keep the copy of In Style magazine, though.
Listen, I need to ask you for a small, minuscule favor. Would you mind not mentioning my suspension (or the allegations of “harassment”)(or the restraining order, for that matter) to anyone? I’ve had a nightmare where I show up at the reunion, and everyone runs away from me. They literally run, like someone’s yelled, “Fire!”—and the fire just happens to be wherever I am. They’re all running so fast to get away from me—“Look! It’s Sid Straw! Run! Run for your life!”—that it resembles a Japanese horror film, the streets flowing with people trying to flee Godzilla. Only YOU can prevent this hideous nightmare from becoming a reality (and ruining our reunion, to boot!) So, this will just be our little secret, okay? Thanks. I knew I could count on you. The girls of Phi Mu sorority are nothing if not reliable.
Take care.
Eat Wheaties!
Sid Straw
Sid Straw
2748 Palmeyer Street Apt. 230
Baltimore, Maryland 21201
Dear Heather,
I was fired. They told me not to return to work when my suspension ends on Monday. How many people do you know who can pinpoint the exact moment when their life blew up?
Well, you know one now.
Sid Straw.
Today.
11:15 a.m. on the nose.
KA-BOOM!
Sid Straw
Sid Straw
2748 Palmeyer Street Apt. 230
Baltimore, Maryland 21201
Dear Heather,
I’m writing to follow up on the note I sent you yesterday. Would you mind not telling anyone that I was fired? I’m having the same nightmare…people running…Godzilla. You know what I mean.
Anyway, sorry yesterday’s note was so melodramatic. With this economy, it shouldn’t take long for me to find a new job. I’m going to take my time looking and make sure I take the right position. It wouldn’t hurt to take things a little easy for a while, either. God knows I could use a rest. Too many late nights at the office.
Eat Wheaties!
Sid Straw
Sid Straw
2748 Palmeyer Street Apt. 230
Baltimore, Maryland 21201
Dear Sam,
Congratulations on your promotion to Regional Vice President, Sales and Marketing! I wish you the best of luck in the position. Please do not hesitate to call if I can answer any questions.
Sincerely,
Sid Straw
• UCLA REUNION COMMITTEE •
Dear Sarah,
Are you even trying to find a place for the reunion brunch? The reunion’s only a few months away. We need to make this a top priority.
Please get in touch with me as soon as possible.
Sincerely,
Sid
Sid Straw
2748 Palmeyer Street Apt. 230
Baltimore, Maryland 21201
Dear Heather,
I wanted to write to you about something disturbing that happened last night. I had dinner with my parents, my brother Tom and his wife, Janet, last night. It’s bad enough that my father is barely talking to me because of a recent mixup, about which I may have already written. What was worse was that, out of the blue, Janet said, “Oh, by the way, Sid, I checked with my friend who knows Heather Locklear’s agent, and she says she’s never even heard of you.” It was a very awkward moment, to say the least: my explaining how you and I went to college together, her insisting that you’ve never heard of me.
The way I figure it, one of two things happened: either Janet fabricated her whole story just to embarrass me in front of my family, or you honestly don’t remember me. I expect (and hope) that it’s the former. It would certainly be in character for Janet to do something to try to embarrass me in front of my family: She’s still upset about what happened at the wedding. If it’s the latter, however, I’m disappointed: Trust me, you know me, Heather. I dated Tracy Swid when you both were in Phi Mu. (“Rattle, rattle, rattle/here come the cattle/Phi Moo!”) You and I were in Dr. Katz’s poli sci class when he fell asleep. (Someone wrote “Just a little Katz Nap” on the blackboard, remember?) We were on the same intramural volleyball team one semester. I came in second place in the writing competition junior and senior years. I used to write a column for The Daily Bruin called “The Bear Facts.” (I’m enclosing a couple copies—maybe they’ll jog your memory.) Remember?
Anyway, as I’ve said, I suspect that Janet only said that you didn’t know me to embarrass me. If that was her goal, she achieved it. In spades. She’s a horrible, horrible little woman. My brother could’ve done much better. Unlike me, he was racing to get married. I’ve always been the tortoise; he’s always been the hare. And, as you know, the tortoise always ends up winning. At least in the books I’ve read. Which do not include Ulysses.
I hope all’s well.
Eat Wheaties!
Sid Straw
P.S. I have three job interviews next week. One of them is for a Senior V.P., which would actually be a step up from my job at Empire. Keep your fingers crossed for me. Except when you’re driving, of course; that could be dangerous!
People Who’ve Beaten Me Up
BY SID STRAW
My nose has been broken 28 times. I swear that I’m not making that up—28 times. An x-ray of my nasal area looks like kind of a jigsaw puzzle, although my doctor says it reminds him of Hiroshima. (Hiroshima was bombed during World War II. You could look it up.) You see, I used to get into a lot of fights. My dad says it was because I got on people’s nerves. (Those weren’t his exact words.) My mom said it was because all of the other kids were jealous of me. My mom is a really nice lady. I like her more than
my dad. Just don’t tell him I said that.
The following is a partial list of people who have done physical damage to me (most of these encounters resulted in my having two cotton balls stuck up my nostrils for an extended period of time):
1. Jeff Hill
Jeff was a good friend of mine in grade school, but he was hyperactive. We used to sit next to each other in Mrs. Converse’s social studies course, and when Mrs. Converse would leave the room to readjust her slip, Jeff would belt me over the head with his binder. The one pleasure which I took in Jeff’s hyperactivity was that he always managed to hurt himself, sometimes worse than he hurt me. Once in the third grade, he broke his arm on a field trip to Newport, R.I.; he broke it trying to punch a boat. He slept over at my house later that week, and when I wouldn’t let him eat my new Avengers comic book, he bashed me in the face with his cast. I stopped breathing for about a week.
2. Tom Barry
Tom was a neighbor in Maryland. We stopped being friends when he drew a moustache on my Brooks Robinson baseball card. Well, I got really angry and put his best frog under the tire of his mom’s car. When he found out, he came over to my house and gave me a really bad Indian rub on my right wrist and tried to shove my turtle in my mouth. Then, he put dog manure in my Orioles batting helmet, but I didn’t find out about that until later. (“Manure” is a fancy word for “dog crap,” by the way.)
3. Mr. Barry
Mr. Barry was Tom’s dad, and he had a really disgusting scar on his face which resembled Lake Champlain. He was really mad because he had bought that frog for Tom (I thought everyone got their frogs over at Dubner’s Pond). Then he had the nerve to accuse me of setting fire to their mailbox (which I did but wasn’t about to admit). Anyhow, he chased me around for a while on his riding lawnmower before he rubbed my face against his stucco house.
