Saying Goodbye

How could you leave and not take me?

At least I have the weekend to build myself up to what will be a bit of a rough Monday. We had a fun happy hour - or two, or three, or four, or five or six - last night - what I remember of it, anyway. When I woke up in the morning I had a few questions, such as: who was that guy? What are these odd marks on my neck? Where did I get this bracelet? Why doesn't everyone always eat leftover manicotti for breakfast? And where the hell is my car?

No, just kidding: my car was parked on Nueces next to Little Woodrow's, where I put it before the drinking commenced, because Tony was kind enough to take me home. And I got to visit with my fun friend Kevin, whom I haven't gotten to see since Eeyore's! And spending time with Robbie is always a blast. And I would have had an even better time if it weren't for the fact that I am (apparently) not as young as I think I am, so drinking too much just makes me want to go home and get some sleep; not, as Robbie had planned, go to that new dance club that has an aquarium dance floor with sharks in it, so just to be on the safe side I didn't wear stiletto heels. Well, maybe next weekend. Edwin will be in town, so we're all going to see 30 Days of Night, as it's set in our hometown of Barrow, and we're pretty sure Nyuk-Nyuk has a minor role.

But who was that guy?

That's the least of my worries. According to today's mail, it looks like Chadwick's is calling it quits on my sorry ass:

Elizabeth,

Is this really goodbye?
...you were once ranked among our best customers but, unfortunately, we'll have to say goodbye if you don't order from us soon.

Oh no, not The Talk.

We've done all we can to bring you the best offers, continuously updating our classics for a more modern appeal while keeping the price right for you. But I still have not heard from you and I'm afraid THIS COULD BE YOUR VERY LAST CATALOG.

Oh God. It's true. How could I have been such a selfish pig? They've done everything for me, everything, and what have I ever given them in return?

In fact, have I ever placed an order with them?? I don't think I have. I'm such an ungrateful bitch.

Let's start over!
To encourage you to give us another try, we've made an exclusive final offer just for you.

It's more than I deserve, I know.

Remember, this may be your LAST CATALOG if I do not hear from you.
...
(P.S.: We don't want to bother you with unwanted catalogs... by ordering today and taking advantage of this great 40% off coupon, we'll know you want to keep receiving our mailings.)

They know me so well. Here they've been providing me with months upon years of window-shopping enjoyment, sending me catalogs full of pictures of clothes I am occasionally mildly interested in the possibility of purchasing, and what have I ever done for them? Nothing! Oh, Chadwick's. How could I treat you like this?

Wait just a minute. What the hell kind of way is this for them to talk to a valued customer? Threats and guilt trips and self-righteous ultimatums? I'm special, goddammit. I'm smart and funny, pretty and loving and sweet. They should be begging to keep me. They should be on their knees. Why do I have to put up with this shit?

Ah, who am I kidding? I'll probably be on the phone Monday, placing an order. Robbie won't be there to talk me out of it.