I think it’s Jen, at least. That’s what your nametag says. Do you go by Jennifer in outside of work? It’s just that I already know two Jens and I’m eager to keep this as uncomplicated as possible.
Anyway, I’ve been admiring your customer service skills for quite some time. I realize this may seem creepy, but trust me, it’s not. You sorta know me. I’m the brown haired guy who always orders two hamburgers, but I always call them beefburgers kinda as a joke, but also because, technically, there’s no ham in a hamburger and I like to call things as I see ‘em. I think you’ll enjoy this aspect of my personality.
Anyway, would you like to go to that custard place down the street with me sometime? A Wednesday would be preferable. They have cake batter on Wednesdays.
Here’s my email address: email@example.com Alex, March 10, 2013
Although I’ve yet to hear from you, I’m not worried. I’ll assume you simply haven’t checked the suggestion box yet, since you took my order normally after I gave you that knowing glance–the kind you give to someone with whom you share something secret and special.
I know this is an unusual way to ask someone out, but I’m an unusual guy, Jen. I watch Wes Anderson movies frequently. I’m just telling you this so you don’t think it’s creepy or anything that I’m leaving you notes in your suggestion box. To me it’s like a cute, quirky thing for me to do. Like making you a mixtape or growing a mustache. Alex, firstname.lastname@example.org, March 13, 2013
As much as I love your hamburgers (yum!), I can’t stand the florescent lighting. It gives my husband a headache. Lauren G
I love you.
Feels good to say that. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately–restructuring my priorities and such. In doing so, I’ve realized how important you are to me. And I realize we haven’t spent much or any time together, but love is irrational like that. The heart wants what the heart wants, Jen. Alex, email@example.com, March 14, 2013
I’d feel remiss to not mention my irritation at the fact that you’ve yet to respond to my notes. It strikes me as unsavory to think of you as cold or uncaring, as that’s not the Jen I know; that’s not the Jen who makes eye contact and throws in extra bbq sauce free of charge.
People can be very disappointing. Alex, firstname.lastname@example.org, March 16, 2013
Whatever. Maybe I deserve to alone. Evidently, I’m not worthy of your fake little smile or your bullshit chicken grease-coated weave. Your beef is never frozen, but as far as I can tell, your heart is in a perpetual state of freezerburn.
I hope you choke on one of your spicy chicken nuggets, which, NEWSFLASH, aren’t even that spicy. Alex, March 16, 2013
I don’t know what your problem is. Maybe you’re not looking for love right now. Maybe you’re an idiot. I’m leaning towards the latter at the moment because, frankly, it takes about five brain cells to know that when a man puts it all on the line for a woman he cherishes, he at least deserves a reply. I defended you when my mom called you a cheeseburger whore. I’m beginning to think she had you pegged. Maybe you’d pay attention to me if I ordered a medium number three with a baked potato, you bitch.
Fuck you for toying with my heart. Alex, email@example.com, March 16, 2013