A Letter to Mr. Universe

(not to be confused of course with Arnold, or Steve Reeves, and their successors)

Dear Mr. Universe,

What's up?

I realize that by calling you Mr., I'm gendering you, and inferring certain traits as a result. Please don't think this is unintentional, but feel free to take that as you will. At the moment, you feel like a guy, so for now a Mr. you shall be.

Anyway, you and I have been having a lot of fun lately, eh? Or rather, you've been having a lot of fun, and I'm on the receiving end.

Don't get me wrong, I don't mind the attention. As an after effect of my pagan days I'm a total believer in the threefold rule, and since my behaviour lately has been NOTHING if not virtuous to a fucking fault, I figure that by putting up with all this bullshit, and still projecting what I was told yesterday is a very calm and together exterior (although the reality is anything but), that I'm in for some BIG FUCK OFF KARMIC REWARDS somewhere (soon?) down the line. I will hold you to this, so make a note in your rolodex:

"From the Desk of Mr. Universe~ Note to self: Don't forget ARDH re- BIG FUCK OFF REWARDS, notify Karma Department ASAP."
(yes, not only male but also a yuppie - I wonder where this comes from?)

However, it's getting to the point where I can't even laugh about it anymore. There was a point last week when I was walking around expecting some vertically challenged stage performer to tumble out from behind a door, or a hedge, or a manhole, point up at me and start guffawing. At that happy moment I would realize that this has all been a big joke, everyone was in on it, and we can now all commence the drinking and watch the playback reels (it was videotaped of course). We'll pause the tape and people will slap me on the back (more guffawing) and say "MAN! did you ever look stupid! And bummed!" And I'll laugh and be like "Yeah! I did look bummed! Because I was!" And cringe internally... the joke's on me... but at least it would be over.

Now, the joke on me-- well it's just not that funny anymore. I'm past the point where I can watch in awe at everything piling up one thing on top of the other and get a chuckle out of how utterly pathetic I've felt lately. There shall be no more, "You won't BELIEVE what's happened now..." statements; no more "Hey, so guess what? THEN my backpack ended up full of sweet and sour sauce!"; no more "So they fucked up my pay this week and - no, not more money - actually HALF of what I'm supposed to get, jeez, eh?"; no more "Apparently VISA will issue a fucking credit card to everyone on the planet EXCEPT ME! Weird, HUH?" (and believe me, Mr. Universe, the irony of the fact that it was CIBC that rejected me has not been lost - there, I said it - but I understand that the temptation was probably just too great for you, I should have gone with TD, damn the interest rates).

So I guess what I'm getting to here is that any time you feel like throwing me a goddamned bone, I'll be sitting over here wagging my tail half-heartedly, and waiting whole-heartedly to catch it. In short: You win, I salute you, kowtow and all that fun stuff. I GIVE.

UNCLE.

Yours always in gravest sincerity,

ARDH