Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Letter From My Liver

I never check the mail. I think that I've established that. Just read Mail Check.

Well...I went and finally checked my mail. I pulled some heavy duty ninja crap and leaped out of the shadows to insert my key and make a grab for it. Its always a dangerous proposition and one can never take too many precautions.

At any rate, what do you think that I found? Oh sure...there were the bills and more bills and finally notices and then some really threatening shut off notices. Apparently, one needs to check ones mail. Who knew? Since I generally disaprove of mail, I am suspect of these so-called "Bill Collectors". Poppycosh! So I did what I always do and threw them in the trash.

Maybe some vagrants who are less fortunate than myself will rifle through my trash and find some fresh bills to pay. I'm doing my part!

Aside from the usual junk mail, one lonely letter stood out above all the rest. It attracted my attention at once because besides being addressed to me (it was in my mail after all), the return address was "Scotts Liver...Somewhere in the middle of Scott." Hmm...

Now I know that I've done more than my share of hard partying. I do drink ... here and again. I have been involved in the bar business for the better part of 14 years. Most of my friends are in the bar business. And most of my friends are generous to a fault. So I cocked an eye at this suspicious letter and prepared myself for the worst.

The letter went something like this:

Dear Scott,

We have shared some really good times together. I certainly wont argue that. I remember slow dancing to tequila, bourbon and, most of all rum...our song. I recall the many nights that we spent laughing together over a glass of wine. And could I forget, the many beers we downed, just socially at first of course.

Still, I feel that you have been taking advantage of me. I feel as though I have been taken for granted. It's as though you believe I will always be there for you, for us. I'm sad that you dont seem to see it that way...that my feelings dont seem to matter to you anymore.

These days I spend struggling to recover from your nights out on the town.
Who takes care of the Kidneys now? Me that's who. While you are out and
about, I'm watching over the Kidneys and finding ways to piss away those
memories of your vanities.

If you insist on keeping this behaviour up, then I may have to leave you
behind. I have been seeing a great new donor site and, well, I am
prepared to move on. I have had enough of your indulgences with the
ladies of liquor.

I am truly sorry for us both. Maybe its not you. Maybe its me after all.
But it's time for one of us to take some responsibility for this
relationship. Things must change...or it's over.


Your Liver.

PS. Whatever happens, I get the DVDs.

Oh my. See what I mean about opening the mail? I think that I'd better leave the mail to the professionals and go have a drink.


Anonymous said...

Hey Scott - after a wild party (preluded by way too many wile parties this summer) I posted your letter to FB - hope you don't mind :) Its freaking funny!

Freestyle said...

Nice! No I dont mind. Glad you enjoyed it!

Copyright 2008-2012. All Rights Reserved. No portion of this blog or its content may be reproduced without the express written permission of the Author.

Knockin On Heaven's Door