Letters

It's been a while and I don't really have much going on, so I thought I'd catch up on my correspondence. Here we go.
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Dear USAA,
I am planning a cross-country move to a state with regulations out the wazoo. I called you to check on how my car insurance will be affected. You transferred me to the nicest person on the planet, who seemed to be more excited about my move than I was. Does she get a cut of my premiums or something? Because she can have some. She was awesome. I got a quote, I got my insurance changed over effective the date of my move, I got the forms I'll need to register my car, and I even got my renter's insurance switched over. I will not have to make any calls when I get there. Done. And that is fabulous.

According to your website, you've been "Ranked #1 in Customer Service." I think this is the first time I've read something like that and actually believed it. If your office was not in Texas, I would bake you cookies. Such is my love.

Seriously. Love.
Samantha
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Dear Apartment,
I know we've had our ups and downs, and today is no different. Only a month ago I was dreading the loss of you. Your spacious floorplan, your double sinks, your walk-in-for-days closet, and God bless you your 1.5 baths. But then I found new apartment. And I fell in love with it. Not just love. Loooooove. Because it is beautiful. And because hopefully at my new apartment I will not come home to notes stuck in my doorjamb reading:

Dear Resident:

A crime has been perpetrated in our complex. It is our understanding that those responsible have not been identified or apprehended. If you see a crime being committed, please call the police. And then please call our complex office and leave a message. You are responsible for your own safety, and local law enforcement is responsible for aiding in that safety.

Thank you,

Your crappy new management team

First of all, thank you for letting me know that something has happened. It is comforting to know that a mystery crime has been perpetrated and that we have no idea who did it. Phew. What a load off my mind. Seriously, WTF? Was somebody murdered (again)?? Was someone robbed at gunpoint? Is someone having oral sex? (Illegal in Alabama.) Is someone placing squirrels down their pants for the purpose of gambling?? I NEED DETAILS! I leave this complex at all hours of the night. If there's a friendly neighborhood carjacker waiting for me at the gate, I might like to know. Also, is it just me, or does it sound like we're being accused of the crime? I feel as though the letter is less "be safe" and more "admit what you've done, you thugs."

Regardless, you are not making me happy right now. Also, the water constantly being broken is starting to get on my nerves. The whole "they're fixing a leak right now, you're water will be back in two hours" excuse is wearing thin. Pipes shouldn't pop new leaks every two weeks. Also, 2 hours is 120 minutes. Not 3 days. If the pipes have disintegrated, it might be time for new ones. Just a suggestion. Although perhaps you might first catch the squirrel pants gambler. Gotta have priorities.

Sincerely,

Sam

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Dear New Girls at Work,

Thank God we hired you. You're both nurses, you're both intelligent, and you both have made me laugh so much my face hurts. I'm so glad we've finally found some people that may actually be able to do this job without killing anyone or giving the other coordinators ulcers. Already you've picked up more than the last idiot we hired who's been with us six months. You're already asking for your nicknames since we've given everyone in the office unfortunate alter egos. You're hoping you don't end up with a name like the last girl, unfortunately nicknamed "The Big Hurt" because that's what it feels like when you have to work with her all night. Or talk to her for any length of time whatsoever.

Also, a special thank you to the new girl who has already passed out in the OR. Way to pull the heat off of me. At least I was under the influence of chemicals. You just passed slam out on the floor for no reason. Also, way to recover and suck it up. You stuck it out even though you probably suffered a concussion and two days later your ankle still isn't looking that hot. I will say that you are lucky in that the surgeons didn't notice your floor dive. Waking up to your friend the other trainee coordinator and a nurse or two beats the pants off of waking up to a roomful of surgeons. Now we can tease you about your glucose tablets and suing us for workman's comp. It's good times.

Finally, when I leave I get to pawn off my horrible office duty on someone. I promise not to do that to either of you. I like you way too much for that. Although I will use it as a bargaining chip every day until I leave to get you to do my bidding. Eventually you will know me better though and realize the only option I ever even considered. Of course I'm giving this crap to The Big Hurt.

Thanks for being awesome,

Sam

An Open Letter to Andrew Lloyd Webber, Joel Schumacher, and anyone else involved with the movie release of "The Phantom of the Opera"

Dear Mr. Webber, Mr. Schumacher, and everybody else:

Why? Why would you destroy a classical theatrical piece in such a manner? Especially you Mr. Webber. You have seen your brilliant musical performed countless times by limitless amounts of talent. Why, when your masterpiece is to be released to the masses, would you be anything but tireless in your efforts to make it the most brilliant performance of this piece to date? Your first mistake was in hiring your casting director. I do not know, nor do I care to know, who you chose to cast this film, because if I knew who it was, I'd have to find them and place a flaming bag of dog crap on their doorstop. Or, I could just take a reel of this film, and set it ablaze on the stoop...I'd say it would register the same response.

The "stars" of this film, and I say that with little quotation marks so that you realize that there was no bright moment in this film aside from the rolling of the credits, were the most wretched singers I've heard in my life. The Phantom spent more time yelling than he did working his upper register, and the female lead barely squeaked half of her notes out...and I do mean squeak because you could literally hear the opening in her throat narrowing and you had to pray that the note would escape before it was too late.

I will admit that I did have an enjoyable time at this film. I laughed more during your film than I did at "Meet the Fokkers." However, I'd have to assume that wasn't the goal of the film. The Phantom's antics with ropes and his cape kept me rolling in my seat. If he did one more dramatic swoop with his cape, I'd have to go buy one for myself. Too bad you're not selling those things. Also, you should really release those waterproof candles to the general public...I'm sure they'd come in handy for something. I'm sure the Phantom is also very excited about spearheading the new trend of personal soundtracks. I know I'm working on mine right now...who doesn't need to have their entrance into a room announced by a few notes? Pair that with a cape and man, you're the height of fashion.

In closing, Mr. Webber, Mr. Schumacher, and everyone else involved with the worst movie ever brought to theatres, I'd like to say, stop. Please. Just stop. The musical film business is really not for you. Try sticking to something that will not involve your ability to hear. Maybe try something that will let you wear a cape. Majorette? Zorro? In any event, good luck to you all.

Sincerely,
Samantha