It is hard for me to find the correct tone to tell you that after two weeks and four requests from me to be sure this task was complete; the three attachments for my sausage grinder are not here, rather 3 tiny fruit knives that have no relation to my life. As I have twelve people arriving tomorrow for a sausage feast I would be grateful if you could, at long last, get this simple task together. Hopefully before I lose my patience!
Today I got this email from Stephen, who as far as I can figure is an older wealthy gay man living in Manhattan. He’s been accidentally sending me email for the past 3 or 4 years, thinking I am someone who works for him. I am kind of amazed the intended recipient hasn’t gotten fired, because he’s wanted me to do things like pick up paintings from galleries, make restaurant and hotel reservations, pick up friends at the airport and assorted other personal assistant activities. None of which I’ve ever done. I’m starting to think it’s all an elaborate prank someone is playing on me.
