I have season tickets to our basketball team back in Portland. I asked my next door neighbors son if he could take an hour or so and post my tickets for sale. After several failed attempts I tried one last appeal
Your in a tough spot? So am I
You sent me an email and mentioned how much your Mom likes the post cards. You also mentioned how you enjoy My Travel Blog. Both of those things take immense time too. I’ve worked hard to do BOTH of those things. What I’m asking you for is a small piece of your time. I believe I’ve earned it.
I’m going to try and explain this one more time. I need you to list my tickets at a fixed price on the Blazer Site. You know the match-ups better than me. I don’t need you to check the website to lower the price. It might take an hour to do this, maybe miss one shoot-around at your Moms?
I hope this email hopes you see the light and you take that hour to list my tickets.
THIS WAS HIS RESPONSE:
Fuck you, you fucking dick. I politely and honestly said I couldn’t be the main guy on this, and explained why I couldn’t, and then I offered you my help in some lesser capacity. It was an honest and sincere response. And you respond with that piece of shit response to me? You’re a fucked up loser.
How the hell do you think you’ve “earned” (your words) the right to have me work 41 days a year on your behalf? Your e-mail implies it’s your sending post cards to my mom and writing a blog that I’ve occasionally browsed. Please stop sending postcards to my mom and writing your blog if you think I’m benefiting too much from that. I don’t know how I’ll survive, but I’ll try. I’m so sorry to hear how HARD you’re working on “both these things” (the post cards to my mom and the blog). Wow, that’s a lot of hard work writing post cards while visiting Europe. While I’m slaving away at my work, I’ll remember that things could be much worse for me. I’ll remember that I could be Jeff busting his ass in the hell-hole known as Europe with the excruciatingly difficult job of writing about the cool things he sees every day and writing post cards.
You know very well in the past I’ve always helped you at a moments notice no strings attached with stuff at your house, your computer, giving you a ride to Blazer games, etc. Whatever, whenever. And even in this case, I offered to help in some capacity, but just couldn’t be the main guy on it. And yet you challange me on it?
Let me explain it to you one more time. I know for a fact that being the main ticket manager will mean trying to find takers for your tickets 2-4 days a week, week after week, each time they don’t sell……and they often won’t sell. I would have to do this management during my work day (not after work at 6:00PM when it’s an hour before the game when I’m driving around, but instead at 1:00PM, 2:00 PM, 3:00PM). That’s tough for me because I don’t dick around mowing one lawn a week and jerk off with pet projects each day trying feel relevant like you. Oh man I wish I had your free time. To be able to sleep in, paint window sill, play with big pieces of rusted metal, find another thing in life to bitch to the Oregonian about, go on bike rides, pick some weeds in my garden, and take off for a year to travel around Europe. Instead, every work day, 52 weeks a year, I leave for work at 7:30AM and get home at 6:00PM or later. I eat dinner and then I do more work at my house, and stuff for my kids and my wife, etc. I get fucking fed up with losers who have never had a full time job, don’t have kids, and who are not married and think that everyone has the same free time that that have. Yes, occasionally I shoot baskets at my mom’s. Thanks for reminding me. Do you see when that happens? It happens on the weekends and occasionally after work. Not during the middle of the fucking day while I’m work or during “school nights” when I’m tutoring my two kids 3 hours a night on school topics. The basketball is my solace. How can shooting less baskets on a Saturday afternoon help me generate the time manage your tickets Thursday afternoon while I’m at work?
Hang in there with your tough life man! I’m worried about you so on those extra stressful months of visiting castles, meeting cool people, eating delicious foods, and exploring some of the most beautiful places on Earth, keep an eye on that dreaded postcard load. I wouldn’t want you to get a hand cramp.
To quote your e-mail, I hope this e-mail makes you see the light.
TO THE PEOPLE NOT FROM AMERICA, THIS IS THE REAL PRESSURE “TO LIVE THE AMERICAN DREAM”