The Pretzel Spill

Monday, February 6, 1950

46 West 83rd Street, Apt. 7B

New York City, NY

Dear Art,

I’m so tired.  In fact after supper, I lay down on the bed.  Shirl told me not to go to sleep and I laughed at her for being silly.  Next thing I knew it was 8:00 – an unexpected nap!

Ink blots on a letter.

Shirl and I are eating pretzels as we work now.  I just filled this pen and, as usual, got ink all over it.  Not having a blotter, Shirl told me to wipe the pen on the couch.  Of course, I refused, saying, “No, I’m going to be neat about this.”  With that, I grabbed the nearest paper bag and wiped the pen on that.  It would have been fine but that was the bag the pretzels were in and they all fell out on the floor.  I guess Shirl had the last laugh this time.

Now Shirl and I are sitting here discussing the coming weekend.  Unexpected complications have arisen.  It seems we have Monday off because of Lincoln’s Birthday.  We can’t decide what to do with our three-day weekend.  I’ll try to give you more information tomorrow.  Don’t get up any hopes though.  It looks as if we may remain here.  Do you have Monday off?

Shirl just picked up the pretzels.

We’ve changed our minds again.  I think.  Now we’re going home again.

Yes, my dear, Shirl has definitely made up her mind, so I’ll be seeing you.  You’ll probably think I’m non-dependable, rattle-brained, and never believe me again.  But I’m coming home – love me any way?  I do you.

I just reread this letter and have come to the conclusion I should have gone to bed after “Dear Art.”  I hope they’re not all as bad as this.

Be good now and good night.

All my love,

June

(Tomorrow – a convention of "the boys.")

© 2011 Lee Price