dear neighbours,
I am pretty sure you think I am some kind of lowlife. you see, when I first saw your mother yesterday, I was on my way to home depot. I find that one gets better service there if you dress appropriately. evidently, this means either serious handyman (most home depot needs) or mandecorator chic (light electrical and finish-grade lumber only). since I was in no mood to break out my Hermes fabric swatch folder, nor my MTM Chavret in ironic plaid flannel, I dressed down for the handyman look. so you see I do not usually look like that, all flat-haired (handymen do not wear hair product, natch) and schleppily hoodied.
and then this morning I carried an almost-empty bag of garbage to the chute, because I heard construction noise and thought your door might be ajar, and I might be able to look in. the door was open, but you were in that door, and you saw me. unfortunately I was wearing slippers, white sports socks, and a bathrobe. hair and face were a disaster of grooming. again, I do not feel this is a fair representation of myself.
please do not think less of me.
sincerely,
simon
p.s. I am wearing a tuxedo and sipping on some cristal right now. I am somewhat concerned, however, that the bubbly is overpowering my beluga caviar. anyway, please excuse me, I have to go turn down my wagner as I can barely concentrate on this here tolstoy that I am reading.