A letter…

I posted the following “open letter to the women of Long Island” to craigslist yesterday out of frustration and boredom, and surprisingly, I’ve gotten a couple of positive responses:

http://newyork.craigslist.org/lgi/m4w/381611924.html

I’ll post the text here whenever the listing expires. It’s nice to get random words of encouragement. Maybe there’s hope after all?

On edit: Here’s the full text. This is my most controversial entry to date!

Dear Women of Long Island,

For the past several years I have floated around in your presence, observing how you act inquisitively from the position of an outsider. After all, I can’t think like you – I’m a man, a mere single man. However, I wanted to take this very special opportunity to thank you. Yes, I wanted to thank you because you have managed to do what higher education couldn’t and baffle me completely. For the past four years I have drifted around a loner while I’ve seen every crackpot moron that lives on this god-forsaken island draw your attention. Every moron, that is, except me. It’s given me something to ponder, if nothing else, in lieu of doing something more productive.

I also wanted to congratulate you, because really, you’ve probably picked a winner. Never mind that I have a higher IQ than a field mouse, more varied interests than “cars” and “tits” and would probably be better in the sack than anyone you’ve slept with. No, that’s not important. What is important is that you are happy, even if it’s only superficial. For that I commend you, because pretending is just as good as the real thing! Keep your head up!

It isn’t important that I’d actually care about what you’d have to say, respect your opinion, know about lots of cool things (sports, politics, history, literature – I’m varied) or am just a generally fun guy. I am the proverbial nice guy, the one you bitch and moan about not being able to find after you’ve dumped your latest neanderthal of a boyfriend. I even bother to dress up sometimes to impress your kind, even if it isn’t my favorite thing in the world to do (trust me when I say I’d rather be wearing my Mets jersey). Does it make a difference? Of course it doesn’t. I don’t have the kind of good looks that come from steroids and tanning salons, or an expensive car, so it’s irrelevant. And don’t think that I’m the only one, either. There are plenty of others like me but we don’t have enough shiny things to keep you interested, so we carry on as we were.

So I wanted to take this chance to commend all of you. You’re doing a bang-up job. Enjoy your lives, and in the meantime, I’ll keep searching for that missing half in vain.

Sincerely yours,
Mr. Irrelevant