WEIRD LETTERS
Dear Cassandra, Russell and I Are Finished
“Call me a lover, call me a fool …” (Billy Joel)
June 11, 2024, Bangladesh
Dear Cassandra,
The term overnight success has certainly taken on new meaning for Russell with all the buzz surrounding his new bake-wear collection. I’d have been more than grateful, though, if the handcrafted half-bamboo, half-rubber spatula I lent him had been acknowledged as the inspiration for his bake-wear bullshit.
Nothing public, of course, but rather a direct nod, which might’ve been a worthy gesture from a man who shaves his back with a lawnmower blade. After all, I was the one who taught him how to crack an egg using his hip.
I wonder what ever happened to his plans to simultaneously become a macro and micro-influencer. I’m not sure that would have worked. It’s like Andy Rooney claiming he’s both short and tall.
Before lending Russell my spatula, he and I corresponded on our Apple watches for nearly a year.
Afterward, in June of 2022, I even received a complimentary message from Russell about my successfully managing my flatulence problem, along with the confirmation that he had been cooking lentils with my spatula.
