An Open Letter

Dear Nose,

Listen man, I know we’ve had our problems. Sure, I broke you once while playing tag in kindergarten. But that was an accident. I really didn’t see that kid’s head coming at you. One surgery later, though, you were just fine. And I know what you’re going to say next: yes, I broke you again about two and a half years ago in what can best be termed an “unfortunate piggyback related incident.” But you’re fine now.

The point in this letter is that I am formally requesting that you stop fucking bleeding for no goddamn reason when I’m out in public. If you want to bleed please have the common courtesy to confine the bleeding to when I’m at home. I know that seems like a lot to ask, but it really isn’t.

Here’s my second compromise: continue with the random nosebleeds in public but please, for the love of all that is right and holy in the world, stop fucking bleeding when I’m at the bar. It may seem odd to be fine with nosebleeds unless I’m at the bar, but I’m going to clue you in on what the difference is.

See, when you have a nosebleed in public, nobody gives a flying fuck. But when you have a nosebleed at the bar, everyone and their mother assumes you’re a cokehead. After some drunk fucker in the bathroom assumes you use blow on a daily basis there is no convincing him otherwise.

I can tell him, “Really, I don’t do coke.” This will be met with a response of, “Haha; sure man.” Of course it won’t end there. This leads to the drunk piece of shit asking me if I have a bump he can “borrow.” Really? I don’t do coke. However, if I did do coke, you can be goddamn sure that I wouldn’t give that shit away for free to some fucking stranger in a bar. What an asshole. Not only did he assume I had coke on me, he assumed I had no problem giving it away for free.

For this reason, Nose, please stop. Stop the madness. Keep the cheap druggies away from me. Or at least send me some druggies that are willing to pay.

With loving smooches,
NDC