Hate Mail

by Donna Marchetti

“What would you do if I said no?” He thinks about it. “Probably wait ten seconds and then follow you awkwardly.”

Then, in an exaggerated imitation of me, he said, “Uh … uh … who?”

You’ll probably be a virgin until you’re fifty and some poor blind woman at the nursing home accidentally fondles you because she thinks you’re her husband. You’re lucky that her husband also has a tiny dick, so she doesn’t even notice the difference.

Also, I’ll pass on the dick pic. I don’t want my poor mailbox to get chlamydia.

Or maybe he lost his penis in a terrible accident as a child. Maybe a whale at SeaWorld jumped out of the water and bit it off. But that wouldn’t make sense with his current career choice. Unless he chose this path as a twisted long-term plan to get revenge on the whales.

“What if I told you that I was a robot?” “Then I would say whoever built you did an excellent job.”