Random Esquire

Instigator was out of town last week. She cordially sent a picture from the beach-side pool in Cabo to me, in the office. She refrained, tastefully, from sending me a picture of the butler who came with their hotel room. She returned on Monday and sent me an e-mail recapping her conversation with Fresh Express, complete with her inner thoughts, captured here for your enjoyment.

Fresh Express: “You back? From your vacation?”

Instigator: (. o O Since I’m sitting in my office, safe bet.) “Yes. It was nice.”

Fresh Express: “Really? Was it?”

Instigator: “Yes, really nice.”

<awkward silence>

Instigator: “We were in Mexico.” (. o O Will you please go away now??)

Fresh Express: “Really? It was nice, huh?”

Instigator: “Yes.”

Fresh Express: “You walk around in your bathing suit?”

Instigator: “Yes.”

Fresh Express: “Really? You’re kidding. Wow.”

Instigator: (. o O WTF?)

<more awkward silence>

Fresh Express: Did your daughter enjoy it?

Instigator: “She didn’t go; she stayed home with babysitters.”

Fresh Express: “Oh, like your regular sitter?”

Instigator: (. o O No, a stranger off the street. What do you think, crazy lady?) “Yes. She had fun, too.”

Fresh Express: “Well, sure. She’s a latchkey kid. Just like me. It’s fine – I turned out OK. I mean, what, you know? They say it’s bad but look at me. I’m fine. You know?”

Instigator: (. o O OMG. Way to make me feel guilty and terrified all at once. However, technically, she is not a latchkey kid since she is six and has no key. In any event, I’m not going to accept that she will turn out “OK” like you, you lunatic.)

<awkward silence>

“Yes.”