Monday, June 14, 2004
A message to the waitress who served us at Lir on Boylston Street on Saturday night
I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to properly introduce myself on Saturday night. My name is Jason Mulgrew and I'd like to make you my wife.
I am not one to rush head-strong into relationships, but I have never been so certain as I am of the fact that I am so deeply in love with you that if you were to ask me to, I would murder for you.
When you first came to the table to take our drink order, I was flushed with excitement. Initially, I thought you were so beautiful that I became sad, sad that women of such beauty and grace could exist beyond my grasp, both physically and metaphorically. But, each time you returned to the table, either to serve us our food or get us more drinks, I realized that deep down, under that incredibly sexy black shirt and little mini-skirt and high boots, you felt something too. A flicker of emotion when our eyes met? A pitter-patter of excitement when we spoke? A sense of queasiness when I stared at you just a little too long? It is not important. What is important is that you felt it too, and I realized at that very moment that you and I were made to be together, whether you want to be or not.
I am not a great man. I am not even a good man, but I promise that I will spend the rest of my life spending all the money I have on you. No longer will you need to serve drunkards Shepard's Pie (which, by the way, was delicious) at a bar. Instead, you can move to NYC and live with me. I will continue to work and perhaps get a second job if necessary, while you stay at home and look beautiful. I promise that I will do all I can to help in this, buying you only the finest clothes and fragrances, in exchange for some cuddling and letting me smell your lovely hair.
I can not make any promises of being able to satisfy your womanly needs, because I am an unschooled in the ways of the woman's body, having only experienced physical love while intoxicated or via VHS tape or after exchanging a nominal to significant sum. However, I am a good learner, and I am willing to give at least 40% of my energy to ensure your sexual well-being is cared for and attended to. And, if this fails, as a consolation, I will give you $10,000 for your birthday.
I realize that you may need time to think this over, and I encourage you to take this time to weigh what I've said and what I'm prepared to offer. I am confident that I can be a good provider for you, and, like I said, if you want me to murder someone, I will. Seriously.
I hope this message finds you well, and I look forward to hearing from you soon. If I don't hear from you by Friday, I will see you at the bar, where I will wait, day and night, until I meet you again. But please, we don't want it to come to that. Trust me.
Prepared to love you from this day forward until the end of time or until the Court orders otherwise,
[Please pass this on to anyone you might know who works at Lir, or who has heard of Lir, or Boylston Street, or Boston, in the hope that we can be reunited and live happily ever after (and pantsless) forever]