it
personally...all the usual stuff. I told Jules to knock it off, at
least around Christie.
Neither one of them will listen to me.
I beg you: STOP THE MADNESS!
Natalie, ready to kick both Christie and
Jules in the head
* * *
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: RE: Stop the Madness!
Nat,
They're both sending me e-mails right now.
I'm on it.
As usual, I will attempt to keep you out of
it. This is more easily accomplished if you refrain from kicking
anyone in the head, at least for now.
Valerie
* * *
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: RE: RE: Stop the Madness!
Val Pal,
Thank you, thank you. It is my wish that you
meet a fabulous guy—maybe even a dark-haired, soccer-playing prince
from a small European country—and that he falls madly in love with
you. May you raise a dozen children and live together happily ever
after in a beautiful palace set in a field of wildflowers
overlooking serene waters.
Your dearest ever friend,
Natalie
* * *
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: RE: RE: RE: Stop the Madness!
Nat,
Do you want me to handle this or not?!
Yeah...that's what I thought.
Val Pal
P.S.—Even if your e-mail didn't make me want
to gag (a dozen children?) there are no waters around Schwerinborg,
serene or otherwise. It's landlocked.
* * *
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: WACKED IS RIGHT!
Jules, Jules, Jules,
First—you used your thesaurus for the
"complete, total, all-encompassing" line, didn't you?
Second—the manager? That's disgusting,
revolting, nauseating, and all around repulsive. (And no, I didn't
need a thesaurus. I'm just that appalled.) Isn't he, like fifty?
Wacked is right.
Third—no, no, no. Do not think of pursuing
that. That is not what I meant by the Right Guy. That is AGAINST
THE LAW.
Fourth—you shouldn't need a fourth. Just.
Stop. Quit your job at Wendy's and go to work at Burger King or
Subway or something if you really have to. Do whatever it takes so
you DON'T GO DOWN THAT ROAD.
Val, off to the bathroom so I can hurl
now
P.S.—Christie is worried about you. I told
her you're PMS'ing and to leave you alone, but I think you should
talk to her. Even if you don't tell her about your abhorrent crush,
at least sit with her at lunch or something so she doesn't think
she did something wrong. You know how she gets.
P.P.S—Natalie is ready to kick both you and
Christie in the head.
* * *
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: RE: WACKED IS RIGHT!
Val,
EEEWWWW. You're thinking of the day manager,
you moron. The cold weather in Schwerinborg is obviously affecting
your reading comprehension skills. And fifty might be an estimate
on the young side, since I think Mr. Ansen gets social security.
Don't you have to be sixty or seventy for that? That would be so
Anna Nicole Smith of me, and without even the hope of inheriting
millions of dollars the way she did. And you know what happened to
Anna Nicole in the end.
How could you even think that of me?
I'm going to hurl now, too. Mr. Ansen?! Just
the image that brings to mind...give me a sec, let me think of
something else.
Okay, brain cleared. Back to my original
issue: I said I've got it bad for the night manager. Got it? Night.
The opposite of day. He started last week. His name is Kyle and
he's twenty-three.
I know what you're going to say. Twenty-three
is probably still too old for me (he graduated from college last
year) but I'm totally fixated on him. He's mind-numbingly hot
without being all preppy-cute. He likes all the same music I do and
makes all the same jokes about the customers.
Unlike half the guys at Vienna West High
School, he actually has some semblance of intelligence (he majored
in Economics at the University of Richmond) and he thinks it's
wrong that Mr. Ansen gets on my case about the Frosty
personally...all the usual stuff. I told Jules to knock it off, at
least around Christie.
Neither one of them will listen to me.
I beg you: STOP THE MADNESS!
Natalie, ready to kick both Christie and
Jules in the head
* * *
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: RE: Stop the Madness!
Nat,
They're both sending me e-mails right now.
I'm on it.
As usual, I will attempt to keep you out of
it. This is more easily accomplished if you refrain from kicking
anyone in the head, at least for now.
Valerie
* * *
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: RE: RE: Stop the Madness!
Val Pal,
Thank you, thank you. It is my wish that you
meet a fabulous guy—maybe even a dark-haired, soccer-playing prince
from a small European country—and that he falls madly in love with
you. May you raise a dozen children and live together happily ever
after in a beautiful palace set in a field of wildflowers
overlooking serene waters.
Your dearest ever friend,
Natalie
* * *
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: RE: RE: RE: Stop the Madness!
Nat,
Do you want me to handle this or not?!
Yeah...that's what I thought.
Val Pal
P.S.—Even if your e-mail didn't make me want
to gag (a dozen children?) there are no waters around Schwerinborg,
serene or otherwise. It's landlocked.
* * *
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: WACKED IS RIGHT!
Jules, Jules, Jules,
First—you used your thesaurus for the
"complete, total, all-encompassing" line, didn't you?
Second—the manager? That's disgusting,
revolting, nauseating, and all around repulsive. (And no, I didn't
need a thesaurus. I'm just that appalled.) Isn't he, like fifty?
Wacked is right.
Third—no, no, no. Do not think of pursuing
that. That is not what I meant by the Right Guy. That is AGAINST
THE LAW.
Fourth—you shouldn't need a fourth. Just.
Stop. Quit your job at Wendy's and go to work at Burger King or
Subway or something if you really have to. Do whatever it takes so
you DON'T GO DOWN THAT ROAD.
Val, off to the bathroom so I can hurl
now
P.S.—Christie is worried about you. I told
her you're PMS'ing and to leave you alone, but I think you should
talk to her. Even if you don't tell her about your abhorrent crush,
at least sit with her at lunch or something so she doesn't think
she did something wrong. You know how she gets.
P.P.S—Natalie is ready to kick both you and
Christie in the head.
* * *
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: RE: WACKED IS RIGHT!
Val,
EEEWWWW. You're thinking of the day manager,
you moron. The cold weather in Schwerinborg is obviously affecting
your reading comprehension skills. And fifty might be an estimate
on the young side, since I think Mr. Ansen gets social security.
Don't you have to be sixty or seventy for that? That would be so
Anna Nicole Smith of me, and without even the hope of inheriting
millions of dollars the way she did. And you know what happened to
Anna Nicole in the end.
How could you even think that of me?
I'm going to hurl now, too. Mr. Ansen?! Just
the image that brings to mind...give me a sec, let me think of
something else.
Okay, brain cleared. Back to my original
issue: I said I've got it bad for the night manager. Got it? Night.
The opposite of day. He started last week. His name is Kyle and
he's twenty-three.
I know what you're going to say. Twenty-three
is probably still too old for me (he graduated from college last
year) but I'm totally fixated on him. He's mind-numbingly hot
without being all preppy-cute. He likes all the same music I do and
makes all the same jokes about the customers.
Unlike half the guys at Vienna West High
School, he actually has some semblance of intelligence (he majored
in Economics at the University of Richmond) and he thinks it's
wrong that Mr. Ansen gets on my case about the Frosty
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