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    Audrey,

    This is the last time I am going to do this. Perhaps seeing a visual representation of who you think you are talking to will help.

    The “letters” you think I am writing you are just the plain paper napkins that come with your food. You seem to have decided that I have created some sort of coded language based on the embossed patterns on them. And the way that you reuse them to send your messages back through the door was impossible to ignore.

    Perhaps by addressing your misconceptions directly, you can get past this and I don’t have to keep being the middleman in some guy’s post-doc thesis research. 

    First, I am not your brother. I’m just Frank, the orderly who brings you food, and I didn’t want to reply at all, but the doctors say that this may do some good. So here we are.

    I don’t cook for you, I just bring the food. And everyone says thank you because that’s just what you do when someone brings you food. While the validation is nice, it’s really just perfunctory.

    The “wedding” you think you ruined was just a group viewing of Rocky Horror Picture Show, but I understand that you feel bad, since we had to cut it off short once the other patients realized Tim Curry wasn’t a woman and started throwing food at the screen.

    You did actually run your Dad over with the car, and that’s why you are here. You seem to forget that, daily. If you had just run him over once, it might have been considered an accident, but after the third time, and shifting into 4-wheel drive, the police just had to get involved.

    Your dog, Buster, I am sad to say, is a complete fabrication. But we encourage imaginary friends and pets here as long as they don’t cause the patients or staff any disruption. Arranging your leftover food in the shape of him is kind of disturbing though, so we have to keep removing him when he gets moldy. Sorry.

    And, again, you keep forgetting that you are gluten-intolerant, so we can’t bring you bread. You seem to like corn tortillas the most, which is why you get tacos every other day. Though after the hot sauce incident, the staff is looking into other options for your menu.

    When you thought you heard “face book” with your ear pressed up against the door, we were actually saying “grace, look!” in the common area, when Grace Kelly came on screen while we were watching “To Catch a Thief” on TV. Again, sorry.

    Anyway, I hope this helps clarify things, but probably not. The doctors said this would be good for me too, so that’s probably most of the reason I did it. So, it’s back to tacos and tortilla soup for you, as those seem the least likely to be turned into Buster. And I’ll most likely end up doing this tomorrow. Sigh. 

    1 year ago  /  5 notes

    1. letterboxed posted this