Oh, my god! You're still there, like a vegetable.
Writing a good e-mail is hard.
Yes, especially when it is a huge mistake.
Joey, I am serious. E-mail expression is the scourge of the modern age. The Internet has made it way too easy to express oneself. Ok, you have some fleeting thought. You send it. It lands with a thud in some unsuspecting person's mailbox. Said person then reads it, gets irked because you've recapped a conversation that you presumably already had. They fail to respond. You feel slighted. But if you must be one of these pathetic passive/aggressive e-mail types, far be it from me to stop you. What do you have so far?
Well... I had "Dear Dawson," and then I erased it.
Why? I think that's a nice start.
True. I mean, you did just nude-up with the guy. Oh, I'm sorry, or did you guys do it through a hole in a sheet because that's very Dawson and Joey to me.
Sorry. Ok, so what do you want to say?
I don't know. I mean, I don't like the way things ended, and I want him to know that I care, but I also want to hold on to my righteous indignation.
Obviously. Well, why don't you just pick up the phone and call him?
I'm afraid we'll just fall right back into our old patterns. Trust me. E-mail is a far safer alternative at the moment.
Ok, if you must do this, then I say that you go for it. You know, be gooey and be embarrassing, but most of all, just be real, Joey. Say all of the things that you can't say to his face, the whole nine.
You're right. I better get to work. But...thank you, Audrey.
No problem, sister Christian.
RRich
That's "sir" until you buy me flowers, Witter. Where have you been?
I'm really sorry. I was just under the impression that I wasn't supposed to be here until 9:00.
RRich
Ahh, "supposed to." Well, that's cute. Are you supposed to dress yourself, or does your mommy actually want you to look like a pansy? Look around. You see these guys? Apparently, these gentlemen are free thinkers. Since you've yet to grow a pair, you get stuck with these. [Hands him a stack of folders]
RRich
That is a collection of about 30 cold days in hell: Rich guys sittin' on piles of money so high that their daughters eloped and sold their own babies on the black market just to put ramen on the table. We have never been able to sell them stock, and they will certainly never buy it from the tardy likes of you. You better get on the phone. We work on commission here. And the guys on your list don't know how dreamy you are, so I would work that blue collar charm full-throttle. Stop battin' your eyes at me.
Is this some sort of punishment?
RRich
I'm just tryin' to get you to leave. I don't have enough desks.
HHetson
Ok, kiddies, knock back your Ritalin and settle down. You may recall, we were wrapping up a rather depraved discussion of Portnoy's Complaint last week. Sadly, we won't be dabbling in Roth's stream-of-consciousness sexual rivers much longer, but fate assigned us some additional reading last night via e-mail. I think you all got a copy, so why not? Let's discuss something you actually might've read. "Dear Dawson, I don't know where to begin."
HHetson
Nobody likes a show-off, Potter. You don't reach a point for several paragraphs, so I'll skip ahead. "In the moment when we touched, maybe we went somewhere else that rose above all this, but then we landed, and I think maybe we crashed." [Class laughs] Why, when broaching the topic of sex, do so many writers try to write themselves out of it? Sexuality and all its dysfunctions are intrinsic to the human experience, maybe the one thing we can all relate to at the end of the day-- well, neurosis and the god thing aside. And the reason that Roth seduced us and Miss Morning After here didn't is that while Roth isn't afraid to get his hands quite literally dirty with rapid-fire sensual description, our e-mail author here distances herself from the act with vague metaphors. Can't be stream of consciousness if you're observing from the shores... right?
You know, maybe-- and this is just a shot in the dark-- she didn't mean to send it to the gossips at large. Maybe she's just trying to get some private closure, never dreamed she'd be subjected to the Oprah psychobabble of her life-lacking peers. Now, do you guys want something to eat, or should I just bring over a nice tray of bon-bons so you guys can hunker down and watch your stories?
Boston Bay is not a party school, Audrey.
Spare me your lies, Jen. I am not going back to my evil den of higher learning. This is clearly where it's at.
Hey, the midday keggers get a little old after a few semesters, trust me. I tell you what, I'm gonna meet you guys in there. I'm gonna go talk to Professor Freeman.
Don't you think that's a tad Tracey Flick? He doesn't know who you are.
Sure he does. I've raised my hand and talked in class a lot of times. He's noticed. He has.
All right... swimfan. Somebody has got to talk to that boy about his love of the straights.
Whatever. It's totally hot.
HHetson
Oh, it's so nice to see you, Potter. Hope our pesky class didn't interfere with your all-important e-mail schedule. Whip out another diatribe last night?
Actually, I did. I was hoping this was it. Did you guys not get it?
HHetson
Oh, this is actually a copy of the article that I assigned to follow up the reading. I know your mini-drama probably prevented you from even looking at the syllabus.
Well, most of yesterday consisted of eviscerating my personal life, and every other lesson is a rant composed of your dated theories. I'm sorry I'm late, professor Heston, but the first half of class is usually when you reveal how bitter you are, how moronic we are, and how literature is dead. Were you thinking of moving on to something slightly more stimulating today?
HHetson
Well, I-- I think we've been spending too much time together, Potter, if that's your attitude. I mean, I was thinking of teaching today, but I don't know if I've got a lot to offer, what with the tenure and the published articles and all. But if you all insist on being stimulated, why don't we discuss James Joyce’s description of the girl on the beach. I mean, I'm too hackneyed to illuminate the subject, but maybe you can shed some light.
