Dear teenage girl at the mall,
Thank you for loudly whispering "He's cute" to your friend as I walked past you. I was flattered by your comment, or at least I was until I turned around and realized you were so young that even Pete Townsend wouldn't be interested. Then I just felt dirty. Really, really dirty.
Not as dirty as Pete Townsend, but still pretty dirty.
However, it was a nice thing to say, so thank you. If you could somehow find a way to get women in their mid-20s to share your enthusiasm, I'd greatly appreciate it. Preferably women who haven't had three abortions and a string of runaway ex-boyfriends who vaguely resemble the lead singer from House of Pain.
I think I deserve that, just like I deserve a nice compliment once in a while. Don't mistake me for being vain. I don't necessarily agree that I'm attractive, but I agree with your right to say it. Our founding fathers drafted the first amendment precisely so young women like yourself could sexually harass unemployed men shopping for shorts at the Glendale Galleria.
I'm sure many people reading this are scoffing at your comment, mumbling something about teenage girls not being experienced enough to recognize failure when they see it, but I don't care. I've never been one to turn down a compliment, even when it comes from someone born in the same year I graduated high school. In fact, almost every person who thinks I'm cool is under the age of 12.
So thanks for continuing the trend, teenage girl at the mall. With your help, someday grown men and women will think I'm cool. That's how trends work. The Black Eyed Peas write a song about fornicating, kids think it's cool, the song wins a Grammy, old people radio stations pick it up, and then you come home one day to find your mom saying, "Everybody, everybody, let's get into it. Get stupid. Let's get it started in here."
And then you break her heart by telling her that the original, unedited title of the song is "Let's Get Retarded".
Okay, teenage girl at the mall, now that I've properly thanked you for your kind remark, let's move on to the legality issues. While I'm sure you're a nice person, I'm going to have to reject your romantic gesture and file a restraining order against you. I may have a profile on MySpace, but that doesn't mean I have Allen Ginsberg and NAMBLA on speed dial, no matter what the newspapers tell you. I'm a man with no use for your romantic advances. I have to do this for my own legal safety.
As of today, teenage girl at the mall, you're not allowed within 25 miles of the Glendale mall, or within 10,500 miles of me. This means you'll have to live in Madagascar. Watch out for the lemurs. They're like very naughty monkeys, except they have ringed tails and can infect you with HIV. Best of luck!
