A Letter to Pastor Borger

This was cathartic, and actually the most personal reflection I've done in probably two years.

Pastor Bryan Borger
437 Dragoon Trail East
Mishawaka, IN 46544

Dear Pastor Borger,

Hello, sir. We don't know each other, but I wanted to write to somebody religious, and this was the last church I can remember going to as a child. We jumped around a lot, and I liked yours the best because it had a treehouse in the back behind the parking lot. And I know I'm not Lutheran, but I went to a Lutheran university (Wittenberg!) and my family has historically been Lutheran.

You see, I have some things I want to get off my chest. I know that you're supposed to confess to the Catholics, but I'm even less Catholic than I am Lutheran, and you both have Mass, so I'm going with you guys. So here's some things that I've felt ashamed about recently, and maybe telling you will make me feel better.

First of all, yesterday I was at Target and was going to check-out with my lady friend when I noticed an old lady trying to navigate her cart to the same check-out we were going to. My lady friend didn't notice her, and I knew that she would beat the old woman. I thought it would just be a giant headache if I told her to stop, because she never listens to me and I would have had to explain the entire situation to get her to go to a different check-out, so I just put my head down and left the old lady to fend for herself. It wasn't technically cutting, because she was winding her way through other check-outs, but let's be honest here - I knew what was going on.

Second, I wear women's gloves. I have really small hands and it's very hard for me to find leather gloves in a small size at most department stores, so earlier this winter I bought a pair of women's size XXL. I don't think anyone else has noticed, but I don't feel too good wearing them.

Third, every Thursday or Friday I get the idea that I ought to volunteer somewhere that weekend, but I never do. I don't know why I don't just get up and do it, because I'm never doing anything on the weekend. It was OK a couple of years ago, because I was young and could still tell myself that I was a good person because of some stuff I did as a child, but now I'm 26 and I'm starting to think the balance has shifted from good person to lazy asshole.

Finally, I call my neighbor Sharkmouth behind her back. She's very cold towards me, even though I've spent all winter sweeping the snow off the metal staircase and balcony that leads to our apartment doors and salting it down so she doesn't slip and break her neck. I've talked to her once and her mouth was literally overflowing with teeth. It looked like she had several rows of teeth, one behind the other, and I actually did a Google search to see if that was a real genetic disorder. From then on I've referred to her as Sharkmouth and played the Jaws theme in my head whenever I see her.

Well, I'm not even lying when I tell you I do feel better. I particularly think I'll get off the log and do some volunteer work before the month is over. Unfortunately, I don't really have the money right now to buy new gloves. Thank you for letting me vent, Pastor, and please give my best wishes to your family, if you have one. Hey, is Dyngus Day coming up soon? They don't have that in Ohio, so I hope you all enjoy it in St. Joe County.

Do Widzenia,

The Correspondent