Adam:
Recently I was sitting at dinner when a friend approached me and told me about the Wespeak written by you and addressed to me, in which you discuss the whole Elbow CD incident, and how much of an asshole I am. Most of my friends, after having read it, have offered to beat the shit out of you. As enticing an idea as that sounds, I would relish much more in publicly embarrassing you as you did to me.
This letter symbolizes not just a man’s gripe over a stolen CD, but also the essence of the intra-campus war between you, the tech-ie, and me, the athlete. For seven months I watched you and the rest of the tech-ies as you prance around this campus, performing ancient tribal dances, having circle jerk ceremonies and giving speeches during mealtime, during which I never hesitate to drop as many cups as possible onto the MoConn floor. Simply put, you people think that you are completely untouchable because you go to a liberal school where 99% of the shit is tolerated and even encouraged. Well, I am not going to let you get away with yet another one of your attempts to assert tech-ie dominance. I am taking a stand.
The truth is, Adam, on that day I received two package slips, both with the name Emanuel Freemark written on them. I assumed, like every other student on this campus does each time he or she receives a slip, that the mailroom had not fucked up and given me the wrong package. So, I opened both packages, completely unaware of the time bomb I had just set off. One contained a CD from a band named Elbow as well as a slip, which I did not bother to read, but did notice said amazon.com on it. I order occasionally from that website, so I simply assumed that it was a promotional CD from the company. After all, I receive ESPN: The Magazine in my mailbox all the time (That’s a sports magazine, Adam), and figured it was just something like that. So, rather than listen to it, I threw it out. I threw it the fuck out.
In the next few days I received two emails, one from the head of the mailroom and the other from Dean Wahle, both of which described how your Elbow CD had mistakenly been delivered to me, and if I could please return it before charges were pressed. I realized then how important this matter was, and replied to the emails describing what I had done. I thought this would all blow over, an honest mistake. I was clearly wrong.
We could have settled this in private, Adam. A simple email would have sufficed, and since you know that I live in Hewitt, since you went so far as to look me up in the directory, I would have had no problem meeting with you, and discussing this man-to-much, much smaller man. I would have been happy to reimburse you for the CD.
But no.
In a clear attempt to compensate for not only your small stature but other obvious size deficiencies in other areas of your body, you decided to rip into me publicly through the Argus. I’m sure you and your little circle-jerk buddies got a real kick out of it, too. And don’t try to tell me that you just did this for yourself and not for laughs, because if that were true, you would have approached me in private. You know what you did. That is so messed up.
Looking back, Adam, I guess I was wrong. I mean, it was so stupid and selfish of me to assume that the mailroom was doing its job and giving people the right package slips. Man, I am such an idiot! Seriously, your gripe should be with the good folks at 222 Church St., not with me.
I see that you ended up re-ordering the CD, at a price a dollar cheaper than before. Therefore, it makes pretty good sense that you should owe me that dollar for all the trouble that you have caused me. You can send it to my mailbox if you’d like. And as far as earning back your trust, I’d rather lick the bathroom floor at DKE after a Saturday night party.
P.S. My name is Emanuel, with one M, but good attempt on the spelling. Hey, it was an honest mistake on your part, right? I guess people make mistakes sometimes.
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